


Ad Libitum

by AntarcticBird



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-03 09:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Kurt and Blaine had never met in Ohio? What if Blaine, just starting his first year at NYADA, instead happens to run into him in a hallway of a performance school in New York? This is a story about how they meet, and everything that brought them there, and everything that happens from that point on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> So many thanks to mixed_berryjam for being the best beta in the world, you are amazing! And a big thank you to ca_te for the never-ending support and for listening to my endless worrying about getting all the words in the right order.

It's been two days and he should not be this exhausted already. Two days. The very beginning of his very first week at NYADA and he still has trouble finding his classes. And okay, he's started making friends (his roommate's a nice guy, he's met some nice students; he's also met some students who are too ambitious and better-than-everyone-else to even consider befriending). But still. He's tired. Happy, but tired. Excited, but tired.

Pushing the door to his dorm room closed behind himself, he walks over to his desk to sort through the insane amount of sheet music he already has accumulated after only two days. He'll have to find an empty practice room later. His vocal coach hadn't sounded too impressed with him and he'd been right about it, too, Blaine knows he can do so much better. It's just. He's _really_ tired. He's been on an adrenaline high for what feels like days and, well, it has been days (but _New York!_ ) and his body is starting to protest the lack of sleep and the overload of emotions. He can let himself have half an hour for just listening to some music and going through his Facebook, just a little time to unwind, let his body relax a little. Recover from the hangover of too much pure giddiness that's been flooding his system. He's tense from the constant state of alertness, making sure he doesn't miss a single thing, and he has dance first thing in the morning. He doesn't need to trip over his feet and make a fool of himself his very first lesson. As much as The Warblers have paved the road into NYADA for him, dance is the one thing he doesn't feel entirely prepared for.

That's okay too, he knows his strengths and he's very much aware of what he'll have to work on. This is college, not high school anymore. It's harder, and it's supposed to be. He's here to learn, after all. He wants to.

Opening his laptop, he waits for it to wake up before scrolling through his iTunes library absentmindedly, head spinning from all the newness of the past two days.

Two days and he already loves New York, loves NYADA, just like he knew he would. He's waited long enough for this; the fact that it has all worked out so beautifully now does make all the stress completely worth it. He got in. The rest, he can handle. He'll just have to settle in, learn the fastest ways to his classes, work on his voice and his dance steps. He's not too worried about getting it all right eventually, he has already earned his place here, he's here because they thought he was good enough. And, sure, he's going to give it his all to prove them right, but still. He's not really worried. He feels too high on _new_ and _exciting_ and _oh-god-I'm-here_ to worry right now. And he's more than willing to work for this, it's his _dream_. 

If he's learned one thing in his life so far, it is that usually it is worth it to try everything at least once. And if it's something you know you're going to like … well, that just makes it even more worth it, he supposes.

So he smiles through the headache between his eyes – too much running around and not enough water. He'll have to pick up a few bottles when he gets back from the practice room later, he can't live entirely off caffeine-based drinks – and opens a new tab on his browser while the soft sounds of Vienna Teng fill the small dorm room. He only uses the headphones when Jonas, his roommate, is in, and he's still in class now.

So far, dorm life is easier than he'd expected. He hadn't boarded at Dalton and the thought of sharing so small a space with a stranger had worried him a little. But it's okay. It's fine. And even though the communal showers are still something to get used to, everything is clean and well-maintained. It's not the majestic architecture of Dalton; it's less pillars and dark oak furniture, more sleek lines and folding chairs. It's a whole new world and he's just starting to find his way around.

He accepts the friend request from Jessica, the perky blue-haired soprano he's met in class. He has a message from Nick ( _my grandmother introduced herself to my roommate and told him if he wants to study late he should go to the library because I get “cranky” if I don't get 8h of sleep a night KILL ME NOW_ ) and quickly answers it, grinning ( _He probably has a grandmother too, I'm sure he'll understand. If he makes fun of you, tie all of his shoelaces together while he's in class. How is Boston so far?_ ) before leaning back in his chair to let the music wash over him for a while.

_And I don't know where I'm driving to, but I know I'm getting old_ , he sings under his breath and closes his eyes for just a minute.

**

He finds an empty practice room with an upright piano and spends an hour in there singing, mostly show tunes because he really needs to work on his range. It's decent enough and he's confident enough in his vocal abilities as such, but he knows there's always room for improvement. Show tunes are not his forte. He’s always been Top 40; the silly peppiness and enthusiastic energy he knows he can bring to a performance have won him all those solos with The Warblers. The raw emotion behind something deeper, that he has always felt a little uncomfortable with. He doesn’t like being on display like that, like baring the very secrets of his soul to an anonymous audience. So the musical numbers had been reserved for long car rides and the shower, mostly, something he’d kept for himself. Because he does love musicals. And if, in the past, he's never really found an opportunity big enough to make him want to step outside his comfort zone – well. That's what college is for too.

The acoustics in the practice rooms are amazing and he presses the piano keys softly, keeping the accompaniment to a quiet backdrop for his voice, concentrates on the notes coming from his throat. Goes over difficult lines again and again, his pitch is a little off on the larger intervals... ( _Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation_... the “shar” is always just a little flat...) But he'll get there. He knows how to do this, one piece at a time, take until the end of the week to get it down perfectly. And he will get it down perfectly.

By the time he's done for the day it's almost time to meet up with his first few friends for their first scheduled dinner together, just three of them in the dining hall, nothing special. It's the _nothing special_ part that has him excited, really, only his second day of classes and he has people to share a table with for dinner. Just a regular thing, just _oh, I have to go, I told Jess and Damian I'd meet them by the dining hall_. He has always made friends easily enough, it's not like he was worried he'd eat alone every night. It still feels great, like he's already making this place his home, like he really belongs.

He arrives first, standing outside the door for just about half a minute, clutching the strap of his bag while he waits and feels just slightly awkward, like … well, like a freshman waiting for the few people he can call friends yet to show up. But then Jess bounds around the corner of the hallway, swiping a strand of blue hair from her face, waving at him as soon as she sees him, and he forgets about feeling a little lost. Damian is walking beside her, and Blaine waves back at both of them, happily falling into step beside them as they enter the dining hall.

“God, I'm hungry,” Jess informs them, pressing a hand to her stomach. “I haven't even had time for lunch, why is the first week here already so _insane_...”

“I kind of like it,” Blaine admits.

“You like skipping lunch?” Damian sounds so scandalized, Blaine has to laugh. Damian is twice his size and moves three times as much, which is saying something because Blaine dances on furniture for fun.

“I like being busy,” Blaine corrects. “I like my classes.”

“Oh, no, I love my classes,” Jess agrees. “I just wish my classes would love me enough to let me fucking eat something!”

They get empty trays and line up as Damian begins telling them about his roommate who apparently hasn't even unpacked his suitcases yet, and Blaine feels … at home. Comfortable. And he knows he's so lucky to have had Dalton and now this. This is what he has to think about, what he's thought about since he's arrived, the many ways in which he's been lucky in his life. And it's easy when he's here and everything is coming together like this.

He lets the other two go first and by the time he's picked out his dinner, they have gone to find a table and he looks around for a minute. It's packed this time of night. So many hungry students eating, chatting, so many faces he doesn't know yet … It's like the sound of bees, the constant chatter, a cacophony of voices blending, rising, falling together.

Clutching his tray, he lifts himself to his toes, craning his head to scan the room for his friends, spotting them at a small table on the far side, waving him over. His face breaks into a wide grin as he starts weaving his way through the tables towards them, muttering apologies to the students who have to move their chairs to let him through. It really is crowded in here. It was always crowded in the Dalton dining hall as well, a sea of blue and red, all the boys in blazers. Here, it's not just boys and everything is so much more … colorful.

Blaine loved the blazer. The blazer that became his new skin when his old one was still too raw from fists and boots connecting with it, a thicker hide for his bruised ribs, the security blanket he so desperately needed.

But, he thinks he's grown out of it now. His wounds have healed long ago, and he doesn't need that blanket anymore. Maybe the blue and red of the Dalton uniform gave him a sense of safety back then, but the colors now seem like an opportunity, one he finally feels ready for after all this time. More than that, this new freedom of dressing in his own things is yet another way he can re-learn to express himself. As do many of the students at this school, he has noticed. Not all of them, there is still the jeans and t-shirt crowd. But they are all performers here, and wanting the spotlight on them kind of comes with that. And many of them find more than one way to stick out of the crowd. Jess's blue hair is just one example. He looks at his fellow students as he walks past them, excited about this too, about the diversity in a room full of people who have more or less the same goal in life. It's about more than how they present themselves. It's just … that it's amazing how many ways there are to dream of exactly the same thing.

There's a boy at a table he walks past, and he lifts his head as if he can feel Blaine's eyes on him. His clothes fit him like they were made for him, but what draws Blaine's gaze is his face. Because even without the clothes on the rest of his body it would stick out to him. It's his eyes, or the curve of his mouth, or … just something about the way he holds himself that sets him apart from everyone else – and Blaine gives a small smile because it's rude to stare, a smile like a reflex, like saying sorry when you bump into someone, and walks on. Still he wonders how this boy dreams, what the world looks like through those eyes. And god, he really has to get some sleep tonight and cut back on the coffee, because his thoughts are getting weird. It's the excitement. It's the swirl of new impressions in his head after the bleakness of Ohio that he's so used to.

He takes the seat next to Jess, opposite Damian, and god, he really is hungry now.

Back in his room that night he listens to music with his headphones on until he's too sleepy to stay awake, the sounds of his roommate's breathing a foreign noise as he falls asleep. He's never had to share a room before. He'll get used to this too.

**

The next morning starts... not so well.

Dance 101 is supposed to start at 8am sharp and it's 7:58 and he's late. He has been all over this stupid fucking school, he's sweaty and out of breath already, and he can't find the right room. And he has two minutes until he has to be there and _he's going to be late_ and what kind of a first impression does that make. He knows dance is not his greatest strength anyway, and he can't be late on top of being not as good at it as he should be already, he may not be the world's greatest dancer, but at least he's reliable, dammit...

First impressions are important. He simply cannot be _the late boy_ for the rest of the school year.

He spins on his heels, frantically scanning the room numbers, pulse racing. He has two minutes, no, one minute and twenty-two seconds... Without thinking, he reaches out for the first student who walks by, touching an arm, stopping the owner of it in his tracks.

“Um, excuse me,” Blaine says, a little more breathless than he wants to. “I'm sorry, I'm new here, and I have no idea if you can help me, but...” he looks up and _oh_. Yeah. Beautiful eyes, looking at him in a slightly amused way. A gorgeous face. And the hair … Hasn't he seen this boy in the dining hall the other night? No, but it's a big school, what are the odds of that. It's just that Blaine remembers faces, he likes faces, he likes this one...

“Breathe,” the face says, in a voice that is no less beautiful than the rest of the boy whose arm Blaine is still touching.

“I -” he drops his hand, clears his throat, breathes. “Uh. Sorry. I'm just...” he shrugs, shakes his head tries not to blush. This is New York and being flustered in front of a cute boy who is probably a senior or something is _not cool_ , so don't start, act like you belong here because _you do_... “I was hoping you could … help me? I can't find my room and I can't be late...”

The boy smiles, reassuringly, warmly, and Blaine wants to touch his arm again like that will make him be less lost than he currently is. He doesn't, though. “Where do you need to be?”

“Oh, uh,” Blaine sighs. “Dance 101 with Ms July?”

The boy nods, grins, points to the door behind Blaine. “Right there.”

Blaine doesn't know whether he wants to hide his face in his palms or sag with relief. “Oh god. Sorry. It's my first week, I'm a little … Sorry. I could have figured that out myself.”

His laugh is open and honest and his voice is only slightly amused as he says: “It's not a problem. We all had a first week here, and believe me, it took me a while too! You really should go in there, though, because seriously, you do _not_ wanna be late for that class.”

Blaine straightens his shoulders, smiles. “Okay. Thank you. And sorry again. That was embarrassing.”

“No, it wasn't.”

He's not sure whether it's the right thing to say or not, but if this were Dalton, he would have, and he did fine there. So he says, “I'm Blaine, by the way.”

The boy looks surprised, but smiles back. “Kurt. It's nice to meet you, Blaine.”

“I'm … I'd better go in there, then,” Blaine says, relieved, reluctant to leave. Kurt is stunning and really, and if he had known that boys in New York looked like _this_ he would have packed his bags and come here when he was fourteen. Well, no, probably not. But he still would have _wanted_ to. But now he's staring again, so he lowers his eyes, unable to keep the grin from his face entirely. “Thanks again.”

“See you around,” Kurt says, and gives him another small smile before he walks away.

And Blaine … makes himself not watch Kurt's back as he retreats, as much as he would like to. He's not that kid anymore. Instead, he hurries into the small studio. 8:02, he thinks this hardly counts as being late, even though the look he gets from the tall blond woman he assumes is Ms July is less than welcoming. Oh well. He'll make it up to her by working really, _really_ hard on improving his dance steps. At least all that running around looking for his room has warmed him up some, and one should never underestimate the powers of excessive blushing as a warm-up ritual. On the bright side, he's completely awake now and ready to face this. He loves to dance, after all, and he's eager to learn how to actually be good at it too.

**

Kurt smiles to himself as he makes his way to his improv class, and not _just_ because of the excited and undeniably cute freshman who just interrupted his morning sulk. Which had been brought on by the fact that Rachel used up all the hot water _again_ and he couldn't find the book he needs for his second class and he almost missed the train and being late to improv isn't an option, because dammit, he is really looking forward to that class.

He's still running late, though, and helping out a freshman with big brown puppy eyes hasn't made him any earlier. But he doesn't mind all that much.

No, the freshman, _Blaine_ , he recalls (as a piece of completely useless information, he will probably never even see him again. It's just … he kind of likes the name. It's pretty), is not the only reason he's in a better mood now. It's the start of a new semester, and he has made up his mind that this year will be so much better than the last one. And the last one wasn't really all that bad, despite some minor hiccups. But he's dealing with those. They were minor setbacks, and setbacks are just a part of life, a part of life that seriously isn't new to Kurt. He'd always had to work for what he wanted and if he'd let it knock him down every time he didn't get what he wanted, he'd have given up on all of it a long time ago. New York hasn't turned out to be the magical solution to all of his problems, but it has made his life easier, being here, being _himself_ without the limitations that Lima, Ohio had inevitably imposed on him. No matter how much he'd always tried to make them not matter.

He greets the people he knows on his way to class, rolls his shoulders to work out some of the tension that has settled between them from running to catch the train with a heavy book bag slung across his back. He has a lot to look forward to this year, and he hasn't even picked out his extracurriculars yet. And that's the real fun. His classes, he makes a point of choosing things that are a little outside his usual comfort zone, mostly acting, dance, because he needs to push himself to be better at what he doesn't have down already. Which does not mean that he slacks off in the singing department, not at all. No. He works hard, he knows where he wants to go and he has done this long enough to know that the competition is fierce. And especially here, they take no prisoners. He's fine with that, he understands. His best friend is Rachel Berry. He has always had to fight for his place in the spotlight, so this isn't new to him. It's just that here, he's up against so _much_ talent, it makes him push himself that much harder.

Living with Rachel makes that easy, she's just as driven as he is and they push each other, and, as annoyed as he sometimes is with her, they make each other better, he thinks. They've had their ups and downs, but he can't imagine going through this with anyone else by his side. She can go from diva to best friend in the world in seconds if he needs her to, and that's worth a lot. He's been lucky with his friends.

He's been lucky in a lot of ways lately, getting to this point in his life where there's enough good to balance out all the bad, and he knows it, is grateful for it. He'll never forget Lima and how it felt to be Kurt-in-Lima. Everything is better after that.

Like Janet and Michael waiting for him in the improv classroom, waving him over as soon as they see him enter to share the stories of their summer holidays with him, since the teacher is apparently running late anyway. Kurt is relieved to find that helping out a freshman hasn't actually made him miss the first minutes of class himself.

He grabs an insanely early lunch with Michael after class, since it's the only time today he can squeeze it in. The rest of the day his classes run back to back and once he's off for the day he has to meet Rachel to go grocery shopping; their fridge is almost empty and they go together whenever they can manage so that none of them has to carry the heavy shopping bags alone.

The dining hall is mostly empty this time of day and Kurt listens to Michael as he tells him about the cute history major he's met at a party the previous week.

“I just don't know if I should call him, he said he'd call _me_ but then he never did...”

“Do you _want_ to call him?” Kurt asks, a bit impatient with Michael's never ending stream-of-consciousness ramblings, taking a bite of his pasta.

“Duh. Insanely soulful brown eyes, great ass, nice arms, remember?” Michael sighs dramatically, drops his head in his hands and whines, “I don't know what I'm doing, Kurt, why are the cute ones always like this, what am I supposed to do...”

And Kurt pats his shoulder comfortingly and thinks he really is glad he never dated Michael. Michael's a good guy and so talented and the sweetest person, and Kurt really likes him. He just likes him even better when he doesn't have to deal with him all on his own. He's even more of a drama queen than Rachel, and Rachel once started crying in the grocery store because they were out of her favorite brand of honey.

“Anyway.” Michael lifts his head, making a show of changing the subject. “What about you? You ready yet to get back out there? Oh hey, are you coming to Celia's party on Friday, because there's this guy...”

“No,” Kurt interrupts. Because. No. Michael tried to set him up once before and it was a disaster. Besides, he really doesn't know if he's ready yet. He's over the break up, it was months ago and never that serious to begin with now that he thinks back on it, now that he doesn't see it as he did at the beginning of it, with Kurt-from-Lima's eyes. But still. He really doesn't know if he's ready to actually date again, to actually think so far as to plan a date with another person. Somehow, the idea of making a conscious effort to find someone when he's not really done coming to terms with this thing he can have in his life now seems like too much at the moment. (Lima-boy Kurt is still in there, though, in his head. Holding onto the dream of _it could be the cute guy next to me in the library/we might bump into each other turning a corner without looking and he'll offer to buy me a cup of coffee as an apology_ , as silly as that might be. He can't help it. But actually trying … no, thanks, just not right now.)

“You can't keep this up forever, it's like falling off your bike, better to just get right back on it...”

“Are you seriously comparing my ex-boyfriend to a bicycle?” Kurt asks, really not all that much surprised.

“Well, you can ride both...”

“Stop it right there.” Kurt holds up a hand, his voice firm, and Michael closes his mouth, grins apologetically. “Not another word,” Kurt adds for good measure anyway.

“I'm just saying...”

“No.”

“But you...”

“ _No_.”

“Fine.” Michael throws up his hands in defeat, rolling his eyes. “Be that way, then. Are you still coming to the party?”

“I don't know yet,” Kurt answers. He knows he should, (still gets a small thrill sometimes just from being invited in the first place,) but he also knows this week is going to be exhausting. And he really does _not_ want to meet this guy that Michael has picked out for him.

It's really not that he doesn't trust his friend, it's more that he doesn't quite trust his friend's taste in men. And there's the whole not-quite-ready-to-date-again issue.

Sometimes it still surprises him, though, the sudden realization that he could if he wanted to, that he actually already _did_ , even just briefly. It wasn't some other Kurt, it was actually him. It's been a year in New York and sometimes he doesn't know himself anymore, is he still that boy from Lima or is Kurt-in-New-York a different person, really? He still wants the same things (romance, someone to care about, someone who will care about him in _that way_ ), and he still has the same dreams (Broadway). But none of it is so out of reach anymore, even if it still feels like it a lot of the time. He's had a taste of some things, not quite enough of others, and he remembers his first weeks, months here, feeling his way into this life, never quite believing that he could _have_ it. Never quite knowing if it was possible to outgrow your old life so much you'd eventually outgrow yourself. (He won't, he likes who he is, most of the time. And he's never quite sure when that turned from a platitude, a defense into an actual truth, but it did, and he's glad it did.)

Before, he's been shoved into lockers, he's had people whispering behind his back and saying things to his face and he has known fear and hurt and the constant feeling of not-good-enough, no-one-wants-you. And he's had friends in Lima too, not all of it was bad. But coming here and just being one of them, not something out of the ordinary to stare at and make fun of anymore... He's still unique enough at this school. He's well aware of it. His voice is still unusual and even here, there are people who don't agree with the way he dresses and the songs he sings. And at first, after having such high hopes for this, it had stung. Until... until the good had started balancing, slightly outweighing the bad. He's okay now. He's always okay.

Michael continues to try to convince him to come to the party until Kurt puts an end to the conversation by getting up to head to his next class. The more Michael talks the more he's positive that he actually doesn't want to go. He likes Celia, but she'll understand. Michael has tried to set her up on more than one occasion as well, and maybe they need to stage an intervention for his matchmaking eventually. Or find him a support group. _Matchmakers anonymous_.

Kurt smiles to himself as he dumps his tray on the way out and waves back at Michael from the door, almost running into someone as he turns to exit. It's the freshman from earlier. Blaine. Not a name that's easy to forget.

“Oh,” Blaine says, grinning in that same slightly shy way he had been that morning. “Sorry.”

“Hi,” Kurt says, taking a step back to let Blaine pass. “Survived Ms July?” It's meant to be a light comment in passing, but Blaine stops, smiles, taking it as an opening for further small talk. It's … not what Kurt is used to, and there's a seriousness to his eyes behind the smile that is refreshing, in a way.

“I ... well, barely.” He sighs, laughs a little nervously. “Thanks again for your help this morning.”

“It's really not a problem,” Kurt assures him – because it isn't, all he'd done was point at a door – noticing how Blaine blushes a little as if he's still embarrassed about it. He understands. His first weeks here, if he hadn't had Rachel who already knew her way around, he wouldn't have found half of his classes, and he felt so inadequate, sure that everyone could see the wide-eyed wonder hidden behind his cool façade, see the small town boy who so desperately wanted to belong.

“Yeah, well, I'm...” Blaine gestures toward the dining hall, and Kurt nods, motions for him to walk past.

“Oh, yes, of course.”

Blaine nods back at him, hiking his bag higher up on his shoulder as he makes his way to the salad bar. Kurt looks after him thoughtfully, the way his shoulders seem to slump a little as he walks, the way he doesn't hold his head quite as high as he did this morning even when he was so fluttery and nervous and he remembers himself taking Dance 101. And Blaine was late this morning _to Ms July's class_ , and Kurt knows how these things go. He remembers that class quite well, actually. He remembers being nervous about just _being here_. And he remembers how much a little kindness had meant to him when the enormity of a whole new life had threatened to swallow him whole.

“Hey, Blaine?” he calls after him, just loud enough for him to hear.

Blaine turns, raises his eyebrows in question.

“Don't let her get to you! You'll do fine, I'm sure!”

Blaine looks... surprised, but not unpleasantly so. “Thank you, Kurt,” he says, and the smile on his face makes the corners of his eyes crinkle in the most adorable way.

Kurt smiles back and turns to go, because he has to meet his vocal coach and that is something that _he_ simply cannot be late for. But he likes that he made Blaine smile. Being new here can be … a lot. He's been the new kid himself not so long ago. He's just glad if he could help in any way.


	2. Two

Kurt waits and tries not to appear too impatient as Rachel takes her time choosing between two brands of soy milk. He understands the importance of getting even those small things just exactly right, he's the same way, it's not that he's judging her. It's just that he has homework and he hasn't eaten since that insanely early lunch, and they still have to carry all their bags about five blocks and up that flight of stairs to their apartment, and he'd really like to get going. Like, five minutes ago.

“Rachel...” he warns, as she picks a carton, examines it, and puts it back for the third time.

“We're almost out of sugar and I ate the last of the cereal this morning,” she answers, picking up a carton of the other brand, turning it over in her hands as if she hasn't memorized the differences between the two months ago.

“If I go get that, will you be done here by the time I get back so we can finally go home?” Kurt asks, leaning on the shopping cart because his boots are new and they pinch. He's survived a long day in them, and he deserves to be home now to take them off, as good as they look on him.

Rachel just hums, which he interprets as agreement, and he sighs and turns, leaving her to the challenging task of deciding between ten cents cheaper versus slightly better taste.

Most days, breakfast is the only meal they really eat at home. A lot of the time, the dining hall is a lot more convenient, and then there's the fact that he doesn't trust Rachel's cooking and is usually too exhausted from his days to want to do it himself. And the food at NYADA isn't bad. There's the added bonus that it counts as having a social life to have dinner and lunch with classmates.

Somehow, college is a lot more time-consuming than he had expected. At least it is the way he does it, which is the only way he knows how – giving it everything he has, still looking for challenge in a place that already is a challenge in itself. He got in because he's talented, but also because he's worked hard, never gave up. He knows it. Being good at it is not something he has ever doubted, it is not something he has ever allowed himself to doubt. But he has been doing this long enough, knows himself well enough, to be very (sometimes painfully) aware of how unique his talent is, how unusual he still is in a place that is made of and bursting at the seams with eccentricity.

“Oh, I want orange juice,” Rachel calls after him.

“Okay.” He waves back at her, indicating he's going to get that too.

Kurt has never thought of himself as eccentric, it's not who he is. He's just a boy, one who knows his own mind and abilities, but still just a guy. It's this gift he's been given that sets him apart from all the tenors and underwear-ad leading-man frat-boy types. It seems unfair sometimes that he's still the one to stick out for all the wrong reasons when he's met people here who are downright certifiable (he's had a guy in his class who, in all seriousness, brought a friend to class to open doors for him during flu season so he didn't have to touch the door handles – apparently he was hoping for a callback for an off-Broadway production of Chicago). And no one even blinks an eye at all of their crazy, when, at the same time, his clothes and his voice and even his _face_ are still things people feel the need to comment on.

He makes it a point not to care. He's had years of practice at it, and, really, it's nothing compared to high school. Sometimes, it still stings, because this is New York and he was supposed to just fit right in, but then deep down he's always been enough of a realist to not expect this world to offer him a place where he would just be like everybody else. And he doesn't want to be. It's not that. He just wonders what it would feel like, sometimes, to not always feel it this much, his own uniqueness.

He gets the sugar, gets the cereal he likes instead of the one that's a dollar cheaper because sometimes you have to let yourself have good things, and goes back to find Rachel. Rachel who has, thank god, finally made a decision and is waiting for him to bring back the shopping cart, loading too many cartons into it as soon as he wheels it up to her. And he just knows he's going to be the one who'll be carrying it up the stairs. He doesn't say anything, just rolls his eyes at her.

They pay and walk the few blocks home, Rachel chatting away about that guy in her dance class who she totally thinks will ask her out any day now and she doesn't even know if she's ready yet, and didn't she swear to herself that she would just focus on her career for a while, but she totally knows that Brody is dating someone else and if he can then so can she...

...And Kurt listens, nods when it's appropriate, agrees with her when she says there are more important things than boys at this point in their lives, aren't there? Because he knows that Rachel Berry will do what Rachel Berry wants, she doesn't need him to protect her. He still wants to, and he thinks it really might be the wisest choice to not just jump right into the next relationship after the Brody-disaster. But he also knows he won't be able to stop her if she does. He'll be there to pick up the pieces if it goes wrong and vacate the apartment on chosen nights if it goes right. That's what friends do. That's what he does for his friends.

They haul their bags up the stairs and Rachel unlocks the door, still going on about that boy in her class, and Kurt decides they need to go out with friends that weekend. Fun friends. The kind who don't flaunt their relationships or try to set you up all the time. Not that they have many of those, Michael being the one exception, and he's mostly harmless if you know how to bitch-glare him into silence. He'll have to start organizing tomorrow, get a small group together. Rachel needs to hang out with people who will take her mind off her ex-boyfriend, she needs to have a little fun that doesn't involve guys and relationships. Maybe Callbacks, he thinks. Because there's karaoke involved and if he can get Rachel on a stage, he knows boys will be the furthest thing from her mind. Performing, that is the one true love of her life. They have that in common. Maybe that's why they stayed friends through all of this.

**

Blaine finds an empty practice room again that night, but he's not really in it when he starts singing this time.

That dance class has been his first real setback since he arrived here, and it has thrown him a bit. Not because he expected to be perfect in all of his classes, but because of the way Ms July's assessment of his dance moves had felt like the floor disappearing beneath his feet, the cold shock of embarrassment disrupting the signal between brain and feet, making him trip and stumble even worse than he had before. Which, in turn, had earned him more sneers, more uncalled for comments on his size, his posture, even his hair, and he fails to see how any of that is even relevant to anything he'd been supposed to do in that class.

What throws him even more is the realization of how much it still gets to him, being singled out and ridiculed for something that is entirely beyond his control and no fault of his own.

It also hurts that she didn't even give him a chance. He knows he's not an expert at dance, but he hadn't thought he was seriously that bad. He doesn't believe that he is, but she hadn't picked on anyone else the way she'd done with him. It just … doesn't feel good. But there's nothing he can do but work hard on getting better.

Even though he's not really in the mood, he makes himself stay in that practice room for a full half hour, singing unaccompanied tonight because sitting at the piano cuts off his air. Hearing his voice without the safety of the background music, be it a piano or an all-boys choir in blue blazers, is weird at first, but it helps, because he really hears himself.

Eventually, he sits down on the piano bench anyway, just humming the interval between two notes he just doesn't manage to get quite right, feeling distracted and like he's supposed to be elsewhere. He's just too antsy tonight, he doesn't even know why. Maybe he should take up running, he thinks. He's seen some students run around campus, he's even seen the poster on the bulletin board advertising a running group. He's never thought about running as a group sport before, it seems more like a solitary activity to him. Just himself and the fresh air, headphones on and pushing himself until his legs burn and the endorphins really kick in. He could try that. Maybe he will. He's never been a runner, but it does sound fun and college is for trying new things, isn't it?

Sighing, he decides to give up the practice room for tonight. He knows he's lucky to have found an empty one two nights in a row – for the number of students there really aren't that many and he supposes people will start fighting over them once classes really pick up.

Walking back to his dorm he passes another poster someone has put up, inviting all interested students to participate in a student-run yoga group, 'just for fun, previous knowledge helpful but not required.' He stops to look at it for a minute, contemplating the idea. It has never really crossed his mind before, but … it could be fun. Maybe. They meet Thursdays at six pm and it just so happens that his last class ends at four, so he could. Check it out. If he wanted to. It might not be an entirely bad idea. Because this, what he's doing here? It's been a few days and he can already tell that it's going to be a lot. It's been days and he's still shaking with nervous excitement, everything so big and so different and so unlike everything he's used to.

He still likes it here, but … There are so many firsts. First time he's really on his own. Living … well, with a roommate, but essentially, he's responsible for himself now. First time he's chosen where he wants to be. Not running from, but toward something, and it's something he really wants. First time he feels like he's really growing up, and he expected people to expect less of him when he did, when his choices were really _his choices_. But now that he's here, he still feels like he needs to prove it, that he chose right. Otherwise he'd not be meeting people's expectations again. He wouldn't be meeting his own. So many firsts, and it's slightly overwhelming.

Yoga is supposed to be calming, isn't it? Well, if he still thinks it's a good idea by Thursday, he'll go. The poster says there's no need to sign up, just show up and wear something comfortable. So it's not like he has to decide right this minute.

But the more he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea. Because it does sound like fun, and the only sport he's ever done is boxing, and this seems like the exact opposite approach. New things. Yes, it really might be a good idea. So he'll think about it.

Jonas is already in the room when Blaine gets back, sitting on his bed with his laptop on his thighs.

“Did you know that there's an actual karaoke group here?” he asks, as soon as Blaine enters.

“What?” Blaine dumps his bag next to his desk, sitting down in his chair to open his own laptop.

“Yeah, they, like, meet and … I don't know, just sing karaoke. A bunch of people studying to be on stage, and in their free time they hang out _on a stage_ together.”

Blaine shrugs. “It sounds cool.”

“Dude, it's like...” Jonas thinks about it for a second. “It's like mechanics who work on cars in their free time. Like a vet who has like a miniature zoo at home, like...”

“I guess everyone who gets in here is just really passionate about music?” Blaine says. “I think it sounds great.”

“Do you maybe wanna go check it out this weekend?” Jonas suggests, looking up.

“Weren't you just making fun of it?” Blaine grins over at him.

Jonas shrugs it off. “Doesn't mean it can't be entertaining.”

“Okay, yes, let's check it out,” Blaine agrees. It does sound like something he might enjoy. Singing for fun. So he won't forget why he's here. He loves to sing.

“Great!” Jonas turns back to his laptop and so does Blaine. He has an email from Cooper he hasn't answered yet.

**

It turns out that Jonas has a boyfriend, one who's at his second year at NYU, and so Thursday afternoon Blaine is asked, very politely, to maybe stay out of the room until at least ten that night.

He smiles, says it's not a problem. It isn't. He may not have someone himself right now, but he's in New York and maybe one day Jonas can repay the favor. Maybe one day Blaine will be the one to want a room to himself (and someone else) for a night, and besides, he'll find ways to entertain himself.

He texts Damian first ( _want to hang out tonight?_ ) and only has to wait a few minutes for a response. ( _Been invited to video game night in the next room, wanna come?_ )

Blaine … doesn't specifically have anything against that sort of entertainment, but somehow, he's not in the mood for it tonight. So he declines, politely, and sends off a quick text to Jess, asking her if she wants to grab coffee later.

 _Late class today, insanely early class tomorrow, sorry_ , she texts back. _Raincheck, tho?_

 _Of course_ , Blaine replies, and sits down on his bed, rests his elbows on his knees, bumping the phone off his chin absentmindedly as he goes over the few other names he's memorized yet. He knows a few people, he likes most of them well enough, but he doesn't know if there's anyone he could find on short notice to hang out with him for an entire night. Maybe he should just go to Damian's thing...

Or, he remembers, yoga. He'd said he'd try it if he still thought it was a good idea by Thursday, and now, with his room occupied and his friends busy, it seems like an even better idea. Not only a place to spend Thursday night, but also an opportunity to meet even more new people. Yes, he could definitely do that. He thinks about it for another minute, letting the idea settle. The more he thinks about it, the more he wants to try.

So he drops the phone onto the bed and gets up to walk over to the closet, finds his sweatpants and a t-shirt and lays them out on his bed for later before he sits back down at his desk to use the rest of his afternoon to get started on his homework.

Jonas is picking his boyfriend up from the subway and he'd said they might go for some coffee first, so they have agreed he'll text Blaine when they're on their way back to let him know to get out.

It's just after 5:30 when the text comes through ( _on our way. Thanks, man, I owe you one._ ) and Blaine closes his laptop, strips off his clothes quickly to dress in sweatpants and t-shirt. He only takes his phone and a book, because he'll probably still have some time to kill after yoga before he can get back in the room, and heads out.

He's been here a few days now and he rarely gets lost anymore. He mostly knows where he's going by now, so finding his way to the room is not a problem. It's a little early by the time he gets there, so he sits down on a bench in the hallway, unlocks his phone to check if he has any new messages. There are no new texts, but Jeff has posted a picture of himself and his roommate on Facebook, and Blaine smiles. He's glad to see his friends are settling in at their new schools as well. Some days, he really misses them, all of them, and while he's sure he'll do well enough here, he doesn't know if it will ever be possible to recreate this feeling of family he had with most of The Warblers. It was special. It was exactly what he needed, and he'll be always grateful for that school, for the support from the other students he had so desperately needed back then.

More students arrive and Blaine puts his phone away, doesn't want to appear unsociable. There are a few faces that look vaguely familiar from passing them in the hallways before, but most of them he has never seen. They arrive alone or in pairs and most of them head right inside, so Blaine gets up off his bench as well to enter the room. He's strangely excited, because he really has no idea what's waiting for him. He knows some things about yoga, but not enough to have any idea of what he's really supposed to be doing.

There are soft mats already covering the floor and two girls in black yoga pants sitting cross-legged in a corner, noting things down on a clipboard. Blaine assumes they are the organizers of this little group.

“Hi,” he greets upon entering, a few faces turning and smiling at him. They are all of them still in that awkward stage of a new group meeting for the first time, everyone staying mostly close to the walls, sliding glances at each other to work out who's best to talk to. Only a small gathering of three already having found each other, talking in low voices and smiling the way people do who are in the process of making new friends.

Blaine is about to walk over to the guy a few feet away, the one who is stretching his arms while observing the room, to maybe start a conversation, when his eyes fall on the newest arrival. A boy slightly taller than him with amazing hair and soft black pants that look like they were tailored for him. He knows that boy.

“Kurt.” He has said his name before he can stop himself, doesn't even know if Kurt will remember him too. They've ran into each other twice, had no more than maybe two minutes of conversation combined, but Blaine is still excited to see him again.

“Oh. Hey.” Kurt smiles at him and actually walks over, and Blaine mentally congratulates himself for the decision to come here tonight. He did want to meet more people, and if he can maybe actually get to know Kurt, who was so nice to him that day... “Blaine, right? How are you doing?”

Blaine grins. “Fine, thank you. And hey, I found my way here all on my own.”

Kurt grins back, like Blaine's ridiculousness is amusing him. “It is confusing at first, isn't it? I got lost all the time my first year.”

“Well, I'm slowly figuring it out,” Blaine answers. “I haven't been late to a single class since Tuesday.”

“Two days to find your way around. I'm impressed.” Kurt slides his bag off his shoulder to carefully lean it against the wall. “I must admit, it took me a little longer than that.”

“Well, it's not like I don't get lost, I've just decided that making a fool out of myself by asking people is better than having my teachers glare at me all the time because I'm late,” Blaine explains. It's true, and for the most part people have been very nice about his lack of direction. No one has been as nice as Kurt, though.

“Sometimes, getting lost is the best way of getting to know a place.”

“True. I mean, if I hadn't completely lost my way yesterday, I would never have discovered that kiosk with the really amazing coffee...”

“The one by the administration office?” Kurt asks.

Blaine nods enthusiastically. “That's the one. Their coffee is just...”

“...incredible,” Kurt supplies. “Oh my god, I know, they make the best mocha in the whole of...”

“I seriously had given up any hope of getting a decent cup of coffee anywhere on this campus. I mean, that stuff they have in the dining hall isn't exactly -”

“No, I know.” Kurt shakes his head in disgust. “They shouldn't even be allowed to call it coffee, not when there's _that_ just a few minutes away.”

“God, I love coffee,” Blaine sighs, because, well, it's the truth.

“I've never been much of a coffee drinker before I started college,” Kurt says. “I liked it, but now I _need_ it.”

“I don't know how I'd get through most days without it,” Blaine agrees, grins. “I may have a problem.”

“Well.” Kurt smiles in that warm way again that Blaine has already decided he likes and shrugs. “That's what yoga is for, after all. Calming down after a day of drugging yourself to a state of hyperactivity.”

“Oh, I've never done yoga before,” Blaine confesses. “I hope I'll be able to keep up with all of you.”

“I'm pretty new to it too,” Kurt reassures him. “Only started last year, I heard about this group and I had always wanted to try, so...”

“That's why I'm here.” Blaine shifts on his feet so he can lean against the wall, looks up into Kurt's face which really is almost unfairly handsome. “And I have no idea what yoga even is really. So. This will probably be the second time I'm an idiot in front of you.”

Kurt laughs. “You have to stop saying that, it wasn't that big of a deal, Blaine. You're not expected to know everything on your first day here.”

The two girls on the other end of the room get up and step in front of the group and Blaine forces his eyes away from Kurt's smiling face and the sparkle in those … gray? (blue? green?) eyes, to pay attention. Even if Kurt says it's okay, and even if not being perfect at it won't stop him from having fun, he still wants to learn something and do this right.

They start slow and at first Blaine gets the impression that yoga is all about sitting and stretching. But after about twenty minutes of it he can feel the exertion, his muscles starting to … not ache, but he's just suddenly very aware that he has them and they might start hurting at some point if he keeps this up for a longer period of time.

He glances over at Kurt who's still next to him, looking not at all like someone who's only been doing this a year. He's graceful and there's a determination behind his movements that Blaine envies. It's like Kurt's in control of his own body, while Blaine feels like all he's doing is try to not tip sideways when one of the girls corrects his position into something that feels even more awkward and wrong. Yoga is weird.

And yet... And yet he kind of likes it. It's elegant. It's fun. It's something that he maybe, possibly, wants to do again. He definitely sees the appeal.

By the end of the class, he does feel kind of exhausted, but in an entirely good way. He'll definitely come back next week, because he does feel relaxed, calmer than he'd been all week.

“So?” Kurt asks, as they help the girls to roll up the mats and put them away. “What's the verdict?”

Blaine hands another mat over to Annie who is putting them away into the storage closet hidden behind the wall. “I like it.”

“Good.”

“I'll definitely be back.”

Kurt smiles, bends down to pick up another mat.

Blaine quickly checks his phone, sighs. “I only wish it would have gone on a little longer, now I have to find something else to entertain me for at least another three hours...”

“Why's that?”

“My roommate has his boyfriend over and I'm kind of exiled from the room tonight.”

Kurt hands off the next mat, stands up and straightens his back. “I'm sorry. I've been there.”

“I don't mind,” Blaine hurries to say, because he doesn't, he understands. “I just...”

Kurt looks at him for a second, bites his lip as if he's not sure how the next words out of his mouth will be received. “I'm headed for the kiosk with the good coffee we talked about earlier, I still have a long way home and stuff to work on tonight. If you wanted to you could … I mean, it won't take three hours, obviously, but...”

“I'd love to,” Blaine interrupts, happily excited. He'd really like to have some company for a little while longer. And any opportunity to spend more time with Kurt … he'll take it. “Coffee sounds great right now.” He knows he'll have to cut back on the caffeine sometime soon, but just one cup won't hurt. And he can talk to Kurt some more. It sounds perfect.

Kurt beams, a smile that is both shy and confident and Blaine doesn't know anyone else who can smile like that. He gets the feeling that he's been incredibly lucky to have run into someone like Kurt his first week here.

**

So. Apparently he's having coffee with Blaine now. Kurt is a little surprised at himself, because he doesn't do this. Not with people he doesn't know. And he really doesn't know Blaine, they've run into each other a few times and their yoga mats were next to each other, that doesn't really make them friends or anything. It just feels like the natural thing to do, offer Blaine a few more minutes of company since he can't go back to his room right now, and he's new here, he probably doesn't already have that many people he could turn to at a moment's notice. And he's so nice with his easy smile and the polite-open way he talks to people, it doesn't seem fair that he should feel alone.

Kurt chooses his friends carefully. It's taken him forever to become friends with Rachel, and even longer to really trust Finn, who is now not only his brother but also one of his best friends, even if they don't see each other that often anymore. The friends he has in college, he called them 'friends' early on because they went to karaoke together and ate together and sat together in class. But it wasn't until the end of his first semester that he started thinking of them as friends deep down. Opening himself up to someone, opening up the real him, the him that is more than the parts he lets the world see, is difficult for him, always has been. He doesn't know when it started, but he knows he's been hiding behind sarcasm and a show of strength he doesn't always feel for a long, long time. It was either that or admit how much it hurt to have people look at him the way they did all through his teenage years.

He's so used to pretending he doesn't need people that sometimes he still finds it difficult to ask for anything from anyone. It's less fear of rejection, it's more that he's told himself for so long he's better off on his own that the very idea of actively making others a part of his life seems … just a little too much.

Okay, all he's asking is if Blaine wants to walk next to him on his way to get a cup of coffee and exchange random comments about school and the weather (it is unseasonably cold for this time of year), but it still surprises him, a little. That he's asked. He just … he doesn't feel like Blaine is going to make him regret it. As much as Kurt has had to stay away from people all his life, he still feels pretty competent at reading them. Maybe because he's been an observer for so long. And Blaine, well, he has the feeling that they actually could be friends. At some point. Maybe. He doesn't _need_ more friends, not really. He's not that lonely little boy anymore. And maybe this isn't even what Blaine wants from him. Which is why he's still guarding himself, careful about how much he gives away. But … oh god, it's _just a cup of coffee_.

For no other person at this school, hell, on this _planet_ , would it be a big deal. You sit next to each other in class, you talk, you say “oh hey, let's grab a cup of coffee,” and then you go your separate ways. To most people, it doesn't mean what it means to Kurt. Which is … it _is a big fucking deal_ and he'll freak out about it later and dissect his spur-of-the-moment decision until he's looked at it from every angle imaginable. But right now, it's not the time to behave like someone who wasn't allowed to have friends until he was eighteen.

Right now, Blaine is waiting for him by the door, perfectly gelled hair curling a little at his temples from the workout.

He holds the door open when Kurt walks over, motions for him to go through first, and it's such a silly-sweet gesture of politeness, Kurt can't help but smile at him.

“Thank you.”

Blaine smiles back. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“You're welcome. It's nice to meet someone who appreciates a good cup of coffee.”

Blaine walks next to him, his steps as easy and light as the smile on his face. “So, when you say you have a long way home, does that mean you don't live on campus?”

Kurt shakes his head. “Oh, no, I don't. I live in Bushwick with my friend Rachel. It means having to get up earlier, but it also means more privacy, so it's worth it.”

“Does she also go to school here?”

“Yes, but I actually still know her from high school. We were in glee club together.”

“I was in glee club, too!” Blaine sounds so delighted, Kurt has to look at him, watch the way his eyes light up as he smiles. “I loved it. I think it's what made me realize I wanted to be a performer. I mean, I always liked music, but...”

“It sort of becomes clearer when you're actually doing it,” Kurt agrees. “When you get to try it and just realize...”

“...that it's exactly what you want to do with your life.”

“Yes. I think I've always known, it's why I joined glee club in the first place, but it was still important to me. It was...” _he only place in that whole damn school where I ever felt like I actually belonged_ , he wants to say, but presses his lips together instead. It's too personal a topic for their easy conversation.

“I know what you mean,” Blaine says, and Kurt wonders if it's maybe true. He doesn't know where Blaine comes from, what his high school experience was like. From the excited way he keeps talking about it, it must have been better than his own.

“...and of course college is different, but I still think if it hadn't been for The Warblers...”

“There was a glee club we almost competed against once that was called The Warblers,” Kurt says. “I didn't know it was such a popular name for glee clubs.”

Blaine grins. “Well, mine was in Westerville, Ohio,” he says. “I don't -”

“No! No way!” Kurt stops in his tracks for a second, Blaine walking on until he realizes Kurt is no longer beside him and turns to look back, eyebrows raised in question. “You're one of _those_ Warblers?”

“Yes?” Blaine says, confusion crossing his face before he catches on a millisecond before Kurt says it.

“I'm from Lima. McKinley. I was in the...”

“New Directions. Oh my god.” Blaine's grin is so big it almost seems to split his face. “We heard stories about you. You won Nationals that one year.”

“I almost transferred to Dalton in my junior year,” Kurt says. “We couldn't afford it, but I … oh my god.” He imagines meeting Blaine back then. Imagines, again, going to a school where he wouldn't have had to jump at the sound of a locker being shut, where he wouldn't have had to feel his way around corners, avoiding the crowd in red jackets with slushies in their hands and too much hate in their hearts. He had dreamed of it, oh god, so many sleepless nights when he just couldn't get his mind to shut up, when he already felt the rock settle in his stomach that used to weigh him down every morning when he got up with the thought of going back there, being there, being judged for things beyond his control...

“It's too bad you didn't transfer, we could have been friends all this time,” Blaine says, and the sound of it, the easy way Blaine says it like there's no question in the world that he would have just accepted Kurt into his life, no judgment, no prejudice...

His throat goes tight and it's like needles in his chest, the memory of the lonely boy he used to be. No one to ever really understand, to really get what it means, being him. His few friends had tried, but they hadn't been … they just hadn't known.

He doesn't even know if Blaine is gay. He's pretty sure, but he might be wrong. Still, whether he actually is or not, the way he talked about his roommate, the way he just vacates his room so some boy he doesn't even really know yet can have his boyfriend over … Whether Blaine is gay or not, Kurt gets the feeling that he wouldn't have treated him any differently either way. He might have had a friend who'd really seen him, for once. Who wouldn't have cared, wouldn't have thought up a new category for him, Kurt-who-is-gay instead of just _Kurt_. He's proud of who he is. That doesn't mean he wants to wear it like a tattoo on his forehead, doesn't mean he wants it to be used by other people to define who he is. He loves and dreams the same as everyone.

He catches up with Blaine and they keep walking, and Kurt can't help picturing Blaine in the blue blazer. He'd researched everything about that school, spent hours browsing the website and mentally inserting his own face into all those pictures of smiling boys going about their daily lives at school.

“I can't believe you're from Ohio too! But yes, I _can_ imagine you at Dalton.”

“Is it the hair?” Blaine asks, sighing playfully. “I've been informed that I have private school hair, whatever that is.”

Kurt laughs. “No, it's … well, okay. The hair is definitely part of it.” It's more, though. It's like another piece of the Blaine puzzle fitting into place – the politeness, the seriousness, the careful but open way he treats people. He's so unlike the Neanderthals from the football team. If he weren't, Kurt would never have asked him to go for coffee. “But, I don't know, I just think you kind of fit there.”

“I loved it there.” The way Blaine says it, Kurt doesn't doubt it for a second. “It was … I loved it.”

He has the feeling that Blaine wants to say more, and he wants to hear it, he wants to hear everything. Wants to know what it is he missed out on, but he also wants to know Blaine, wants to know more about what goes on in his head. He doesn't ask. He's not ready to share his own story, and he has no right to ask for more from Blaine.

Blaine tells him about The Warblers, and Kurt tells him about that time (one of the times) they decided to do original songs and ended up writing them more or less the night before the competition. Blaine laughs at his story, so interested to hear about the way Kurt's glee club worked. From his own stories, being in The Warblers must have been so different, so much less chaos, and yet Blaine's excitement about what Kurt tells him makes Kurt see his own glee club in a new light. Because yes, given what they had to work with, they were pretty awesome.

They get their coffee, and even though Kurt knows he should head home and get started on his reading for tomorrow, he stays a few more minutes, sits down on a bench outside with Blaine to keep talking just a little more. It's been a long time since he's met someone who's just so easy to talk to. If he really thinks about it, he's never met anyone who's been that easy to talk to. Which makes it almost more complicated than it is with anyone else he's ever met, because there are times he almost has to remind himself to not let his guard down so much, to not get too carried away. He doesn't know Blaine. He wants to trust him, almost believes that he can. But … he doesn't know. He can't know.

“...and I believe that Mr Schuester really tried, but still, we once did an entire week dedicated to Journey, several actually, and that wasn't even the worst.”

“We had a council,” Blaine says. “They were responsible for song selection and everything else. I guess that's why we mostly did things we could all relate to, you know, because the people choosing it for us were actually us. Well, not all of us, but...”

“That sounds fantastic. I don't know if it would have worked for us, Rachel and Santana might have killed each other and I don't even want to know what would have happened if Puck had been in charge of song selection, but … no, well, it probably wouldn't have worked for us. I'm still kind of jealous. I'd really like it if my high school experience had never involved boys against girls competitions.”

“We definitely didn't have those. All-boys school. And it's not like we had total freedom, I wouldn't have wanted to witness anyone coming between Wes and his gavel.”

Kurt checks his phone, because he really doesn't want to go, but he does have homework and an early class tomorrow. “I should...” he starts.

“Oh, of course, don't let me keep you.” Blaine jumps up immediately, all good manners and bright smile.

“I'm sorry for leaving you like this, but...”

“No, it's no problem. I brought a book, I'll just go to the library or something. Thank you for the … Thanks for hanging out with me.”

Kurt hikes his bag over his shoulder, half-full paper cup in one hand, and the smile comes automatically as he meets Blaine's eyes. “It was nice. I guess I'll … see you around, then.”

“Oh, yes, sure.” Blaine nods. “At yoga, for sure. Or maybe I'll lose my way again and bump into you somewhere.”

Kurt feels his smile widen into a grin, takes a sip of his coffee to hide it. “You can find your way back to your dorm, right?”

Blaine looks left and right, his shoulders twisting with the movement of his head, pretending to look confused. “I'm sure it's … somewhere in this city...”

“Good night, Blaine.” Kurt has no choice but to laugh again, he's been doing that a lot tonight.

“Good night, Kurt,” Blaine answers, shoves one hand into the pocket of his sweatpants, raises the other to salute Kurt with his coffee cup. “It was nice talking to you. Thank you again.”

Kurt can feel Blaine's eyes on his back as he walks away. He's had so many eyes on his back over the years, but this time, he waits in vain for the cold shiver between his shoulder blades, the tensing of his muscles as his body expects to be slammed sideways into a locker. He knows Blaine is watching, he knows he still doesn't know Blaine, and yet there is nothing uncomfortable about the situation. A year in New York and a number of guys who have looked at him in completely unthreatening ways, and it still shocks him more to not feel threatened than the disapproving looks ever did. He wonders if it will ever stop.

For now, relaxed from yoga and pretty certain he is well on his way to making a new friend, he kind of enjoys it.


	3. Three

Saturday night, Blaine and Jonas go to karaoke. Jess comes with them, and a girl named Tracy who Jonas met in class and who's really into all things Top 40 which immediately makes Blaine like her.

The club meets at a different venue every week, and this time, for the start of the new semester, it's a place called Callbacks, which is apparently a favorite among NYADA students. Blaine isn't really surprised to find that the students' go-to hangout is a karaoke bar.

And it's a nice little bar, not too crowded, but definitely well populated. And their group is fun. It's a lot of fun, actually, and Blaine starts the evening off by singing a duet with Jess, who is slowly turning into something like his best friend. Blaine likes having a best friend on campus, especially one who's as much fun as Jess with her blue hair and almost childlike energy, her sharp wit that she usually shares with the world using the vocabulary of a construction worker. She's the kind of girl who can use the word 'fuck' three times in a sentence about what kind of soup she likes and then wipe tears from her face when they watch The Notebook together in her dorm room after class on Friday. He really likes her.

They've been at Callbacks for about an hour when a new group arrives, three people who settle at a table on the other side of the room. Kurt is one of them, and Blaine can't help the big smile that takes over his face as he spots him. Kurt smiles back and Blaine gives him a little wave that Kurt doesn't hesitate to return before he pulls up a chair next to the short girl with the long brown hair, who immediately leans over to whisper something in his ear.

He hasn't seen Kurt since they had coffee on Thursday, and he's really glad to run into him again, even if they're here with different people and probably won't even get the chance to talk or anything. It doesn't matter. He's starting to recognize faces in this big city and it feels like he's truly settling in.

“So, Tracy says RENT sucks, and I request you go up on stage with me immediately to sing 'What You Own',” Jonas says, suddenly towering over him next to his seat.

“What?” Blaine stares at Tracy across the table. “RENT does _not_ suck!”

“I just don't like it,” she says defensively, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Jonas grabs Blaine's arm to drag him out of his seat. “Don't even argue with her, come on, we'll show her!”

“You won't convince me,” Tracy calls after them, and Jonas flips her off as Blaine smiles apologetically back at her.

He follows Jonas up onto the stage, trying not to trip over his feet as his friend hurries along in front of him. “I'll sing Roger and you can be Mark,” he's informed in a voice that allows no argument.

“Fine,” Blaine agrees, because he likes both parts and doesn't really have a preference. They are both great parts. He loves the song. He loves the chance to sing it in front of an audience. Besides, he's sung it in the shower like a million times. He's got this.

Tracy looks reluctantly impressed when they return to the table, but just huffs when Jonas expectantly raises an eyebrow at her.

“Okay, so you two can really sing. That doesn't change my opinion of the musical itself.”

“I don't understand you, have you ever even seen it? How can you -”

Blaine tunes them out as Jonas drops into the empty chair next to hers, turns back to the rest of the table instead. He's not interested in their argument or in actually convincing Tracy to like anything she's just not into. He has had to deal with lots of (however good-natured) jokes about his strange addiction to 70s music often enough, so he sympathizes with her. Music is personal.

He wants to sing a song by himself later, but he's already been on stage twice now, and he came here for the conversation and the potential friendships as much as for the singing.

It's about twenty minutes later when he's pulled out of a heated discussion with Jess by a new voice from the direction of the stage, and he forgets what he wanted to say about whether Idina Menzel or Kerry Ellis is the better Elphaba. After the dozen or so great but not spectacular tenors and sopranos that have been up on that stage over the past hour, he suddenly finds himself really listening for the first time in a while. He knows the song, it's from a musical too, but it takes him a second to place it – he's just never heard it quite like this before.

He stops talking mid-sentence, lifts his head to look up at the the stage and sees – Kurt.

And anything he had wanted to say next about how Idina may have originated the role but Kerry brought an emotional depth to it that he thinks is unrivaled up to today just drops from his mind. Because Kurt is … spectacular.

Blaine loves music. Blaine listens to a lot of music. And what he loves most is, when every once in a while you happen to come across that one song, that one voice that somehow just makes everything stop for a while, draws you in so you have to play it on repeat the entire way home and all night because it brings tears to your eyes with just how _good_ it is. He loves it when that happens. Listening to Kurt right in this moment – it feels something like that. It feels almost exactly like that.

 _Feel the early morning madness, feel the magic in the making_ Kurt sings and Blaine can't look away. He hadn't known anyone could sound like that, like his voice was made for this, for making words beautiful, and he doesn't want him to ever stop singing. His voice lights up the room and Blaine _has_ to listen. He has no choice, because Kurt _shines_ up on that stage, comfortable and happy and every note so full of feeling, it makes Blaine shiver to his bones.

“See something you like?” Jess whispers in his ear, and somewhere in a far away corner of his mind, he realizes that he left her hanging mid-conversation. He'll have to make it up to her later. Right now, he only has enough brain capacity to smile and wave her off in an attempt to downplay this swirl of emotions that clogs up his throat. This is what music is supposed to be. This is what it _means_ , and Kurt seems to get that, and of course Blaine is seeing something he likes. What Kurt is doing on that stage? That is the reason he has always dreamed of being a performer. That is what music feels like.

He was right about it, when he thought he'd been lucky to meet Kurt. Kurt is _amazing_.

Kurt who smiles so brightly and takes a little bow after finishing the song, and then heads for the bar, probably to get something to drink.

Blaine's glass is still half full, but he doesn't care how suspicious it looks. He gulps down the rest of his drink in a hurry, doesn't really know what he's doing, just knows he wants to talk to Kurt _right now_.

“I need...” he says, waving his empty glass, feeling a little embarrassed at Jess' knowing grin. “I'll be right back.”

“Of course,” she says, winking at him, and he doesn't stop to roll his eyes at her. _It's not like that_ , he wants to say, _it's not like that at all, I just need to tell him he was great, he_ has _to know, I can't let him think I didn't think he was simply_ amazing, _he deserves to know this, it's common courtesy_. Instead, he gets up, hurries over to the bar where Kurt is still waiting his turn.

“Hi!”

Kurt turns, smiling when he sees Blaine. “Blaine. Hello.”

“You were great up there,” Blaine blurts out, getting right to the point. This is not the time for subtlety, because Kurt _needs_ to know. “Like, _really_ great.”

Kurt's smile widens, he glances down at the floor, part embarrassed and part flattered. And he's just the boy Blaine knows now, the boy who is so easy to talk to and so caring and kind. “I … Thank you!”

Seconds of silence stretch awkwardly between them and Blaine isn't sure what to say next. For the first time, he gets the feeling that he won't be done getting to know Kurt for a long, long time. That for everything he already knows about him, there are a million more things left that he hasn't even come close to learning about Kurt. But he wants to. Shifting from one foot to the other, he tries to think of what to say next. He hasn't really thought this through. It's just … music. It does things to him. Especially when it's really great music.

“So...” he clears his throat, rubs the back of his neck. “How have you been?” He knows it's kind of lame, but it's probably as good a conversation starter as any, and he still feels a little high from Kurt's performance. He can forgive himself for being a little awkward right now.

“Oh.” Kurt shrugs. “Busy. Fine. How are you settling in?”

“Good. Great.” Blaine nods. “Yeah. It's … great. I like it here. Not here...” he gestures around the room. “Well, here too. But I mean at school. It's … great.” _Wonderful_. Next time he's bringing a thesaurus when he goes out. He's usually a lot more eloquent than this.

“Good. I'm glad to hear that.” Kurt smiles warmly, crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Are you here with friends?”

“Yes!” Blaine points over to his table. “No. I mean … Yes.” He winces, getting his thoughts in order before he continues. “Karaoke club.”

“There's a karaoke club at NYADA?” Kurt sounds amused.

“Apparently. And I got a friend and my roommate to go with me, so...”

“Karaoke is certainly more enjoyable when you're with a big group of people,” Kurt agrees. “Though I'm just here with my roommate and another friend. Still is fun, though.”

“Which one is your roommate?” Blaine asks, craning his neck to see the table Kurt has come from.

“The short one who's been singing Streisand all night,” Kurt says, and Blaine nods.

“She has a good voice too.”

“And she knows it.” Kurt sighs. “But yes, she does.”

There's warmth behind the fake annoyance in Kurt's voice and Blaine grins. He's made the right choice coming here tonight. “And so do you.” He knows he's already told Kurt this, but one more time can't hurt, not for a performance so stunning.

Kurt doesn't quite meet his eyes, but he looks pleased at Blaine's words, and Blaine is glad. Kurt should know how special he is. “You have a nice voice too!”

“Thanks.” Blaine gestures toward the bar. “I was getting something to drink, did you want to...”

“Yes, right.” Kurt waves him forward. “After you.”

“Oh no, you were here first,” Blaine insists.

They wait side by side, and Blaine isn't sure what to do. He knows he'll have to go back to his table and Kurt won't abandon his friends either, but he'd really like to keep talking to him a while longer. He shoots Kurt what he hopes is a confident little smile, even though he's sure it comes out a bit lopsided.

“I seriously can't believe I've been here all this time and didn't even know there was karaoke club at NYADA,” Kurt muses. “I might have guessed, though. It sounds exactly like what people at this school would be into.”

“I thought it sounded fun,” Blaine says, not sure whether he's meant to defend himself.

“Oh, I'm sure it is,” Kurt hurries to reassure him. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean … If I'd known, I probably would have joined too.”

“You could still join,” Blaine suggests, careful not to sound too excited about being in yet another group with Kurt. Kurt who's just so _nice_. “It's a pretty open group, I think a lot of the people only go a couple times a year -”

“I don't know.” Kurt shrugs. “I already have so much going on by now … I'll think about it, but I think I actually prefer going out to karaoke with just friends.” He smiles like he needs to apologize for something, and Blaine wants to touch his arm. Just a sudden impulse, and he's not actually sure where it's coming from. He doesn't do it.

“Well, they could become your friends,” he suggests, but he understands. Kurt doesn't need to meet new people anymore. He's all settled in here already.

Kurt nods and is about to reply when the bartender finally turns toward them, raises an inquisitive eyebrow. There's a bit of an awkward shuffle when both of them try to let the other one order first, until Blaine caves under Kurt's insistent stare and grins.

“I'll have a soda.”

The bartender nods, looks at Kurt next.

“The same for me, please.”

They wait for their drinks, silence stretching between them. Blaine really still wishes Kurt would join their group. He feels like he would fit in with them, like he'd be a great addition. But he's pretty sure it won't happen. There's something guarded and careful about Kurt, the way he holds himself in a crowd. It's so different from the boy he just saw on stage. He can't quite pinpoint what it is, but he gets the feeling that while Kurt is definitely not shy, he's not exactly comfortable around people he doesn't know either. It's like when he asked Blaine to have coffee with him after yoga, the way he'd stood up a little taller, eyes a little more distant than they'd been during their earlier conversation. Like he wasn't sure about what he was saying.

“Well, I guess I'll have to...” Kurt turns to him, glass in hand, waving a hand toward his table where his friends are sitting.

“Oh. Right.” Blaine picks up his own glass, pays, smiles at Kurt. “Yeah, same. I guess I'll see you around?”

“Yoga,” Kurt replies, grinning.

“For sure,” Blaine promises, and lets Kurt walk away first, tries not to stare at the way his legs move in those tight pants. Because that would be inappropriate. Kurt is a friend. Well. Sort of. Kurt is someone he knows and finds very likable and who might become a friend one day if they keep running into each other like this. He shakes himself out of his thoughts, apologizes to the guy he's been blocking from getting to the bar by standing here and being an idiot, and walks back to his own table.

He settles back into his seat next to Jess, and sees Jonas eye his soda with an amused look. “Scott over there -” he points at one of the upperclassmen on the other side of the table, “is actually a senior. He'll buy you a beer if you ask nicely.”

Blaine shakes his head, trying not to show his discomfort at the suggestion too obviously. “No, no – I'm good, thank you.”

“If you're sure.” Jonas just shrugs and turns back to his conversation with Tracy.

Blaine takes a sip of his soda, glad that his roommate has just dropped the subject. It's not that he never drinks or that he has some kind of aversion to alcohol. It's just … he doesn't like to think about it and he sure doesn't want to have to explain it. That one night back in Ohio at a local gay bar, 'Scandals,' great name for a place like that. And the knowledge of what a terrible lightweight he is and the bad choices he makes when drinks. He doesn't need a repeat _or_ a reminder of that. Not ever. Especially not when he's out having actual fun with actual friends.

He shakes himself out of the memory he doesn't want to recall, shakes it off like he's done so often. It's in the past. It was stupid.

He really doesn't want to think about it.

“So, who's the hot guy?” Jess asks, and Blaine needs a second to catch on.

“Oh. He's … I ran into him a few times, he's in my yoga group. He's … he's really nice.”

“And really hot.”

“I hardly _know_ him.”

“Hotness is not a character trait,” Jess says, rolling her eyes.

And Blaine thinks that's only half the truth, because yes, from what he's learned, a person's character can either make them hotter or completely unattractive. And Kurt is the nicest person he's met in a long time, and the best-looking too, which means Jess really has _no idea at all_ …

He doesn't say any of that. What he says is, “It's not like that, okay? We're – we're sort of friends. I think.” He hopes. He's pretty certain that they are. Will be. Soon-ish. Hopefully.

“Okaaaaay,” Jess drawls, sounding entirely unconvinced. “Do you always blush that fucking much when you're talking to people you're sort of friends with? Because you haven't done that around Damian and me, does that mean you secretly despise us?”

“Of course I do,” Blaine answers, playfully punching her shoulder, laughing when she shoves back.

“I knew it.”

“We can still hang out,” Blaine promises. “I'll pretend to like you, I promise!”

“Fuck off, hobbit.”

***

“You seem to have a fan.”

Kurt turns toward Rachel in his seat, shooting her a questioning, slightly impatient look. “What?”

“The short guy I saw you talking to at the bar?”

“What about him?”

“Kurt, I've been singing here since my first week in New York, but rarely has someone walked up to me after a performance to congratulate me personally. I'm just proud of you!”

He snorts, because, seriously. _Rachel_. “No! Oh my god. No no no. That's just Blaine.”

“Oh, I see.” Rachel shifts in her chair so she's almost facing him, the curiosity on her face so obvious that Kurt has to resist the urge to just walk off and leave her to mind her own business. “And how do we know this Blaine?”

Kurt takes a deep breath, staying calm, even if he has a fleeting thought of just making up a wild story about a long-lost half-brother just to give Rachel something to freak out about. He doesn't. “He's a freshman. We've run into each other a few times, he asked me for directions once, and he's in yoga with me. And that is all, that's the whole story.”

“He's cute.”

“He's … Will you stop that?” He's not yet getting annoyed, but it's not far off.

“I'm not even doing anything.”

“You are, and you know it!”

“I wasn't – I just thought...”

Kurt shakes his head emphatically, getting a little angry now. “Why does everyone think – I don't even _know him_!”

“Sounds like you're getting to know him, though.”

It's … true. Sort of. They seem to keep crossing paths rather frequently, considering the fact that they don't really have any classes together. Besides yoga, which is extracurricular. “What am I supposed to do, just walk past him when we meet in the hallway? He's _nice_. He's new here. I'm just being nice in return.”

Rachel throws up her hands in surrender. “No need to get so defensive. I just thought -”

“I'm sorry.” Kurt slumps back in his chair, giving her a small smile as a peace offering. “It's just that Michael's been on my case all week about setting me up with some guy he knows, he sent me fifteen texts yesterday asking why I hadn't shown up to Celia's party, and I'm just...”

“Aw, I'm sorry, Kurt, I didn't know. I didn't mean to … Well, it's not like you _couldn't_ use an excuse to get back out there -”

“I'm not talking to you anymore,” he decides, and takes a long sip of his drink, hopes that Santana will be back soon from the bathroom or wherever she has disappeared to.

Seriously. It's not that he doesn't appreciate his friends' concern, it's just that it gets kind of old after a while. It's flattering that they think there's someone out there who might want to be with him. It's far less flattering that they think he needs help finding that guy. He definitely doesn't. Besides. He's not ready yet anyway. Soon, probably. But after last year, he just wants some time to breathe right now.

**

“I'm just saying, you should totally give him a chance! He's really cute, and he's well-read and he's -”

“What's his name?” Kurt cuts him off, and Michel pauses, fork hovering over his salad with a little piece of tomato pierced onto it.

“Uh … Aaron – _Ethan_! No, Aaron. That's his name. Why?”

“I see you've really done your research on him.” Kurt sighs, looking for an excuse to cut his lunch break short. Michael seems to have made it his mission this year to set him up, and it kind of makes him want to move to another state occasionally. At least he has stopped handing out Kurt's phone number to guys he thought Kurt might like.

“I'm not the one who wants to go out with him!”

“Neither am I,” Kurt reminds him.

“Well, I think you should!”

“Well, _I_ think it's none of your business.”

“I just want you to be happy!”

“Then let me eat and stop trying to talk me into blind-dating a guy whose name you can't even remember.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “How are you ever going to find someone if you won't even try! I'm telling you, Evan … Eth- he's a good guy!”

Kurt puts his glass down, breathes deeply through his nose to calm down, fixes Michael with a patient glance. “I'm sure he is. Listen.” He shrugs his shoulders a little. “I know you mean well. I know you care. But it's making me really uncomfortable and I need you to stop, okay?”

“Okay,” Michael agrees sulkily.

“Maybe if he's so great, _you_ should date him,” Kurt suggests, only half-joking. Michael deserves to have someone too. And maybe he'd stop trying to matchmake if he was otherwise occupied. That wouldn't be so bad. That wouldn't be so bad at all, the more he thinks about it, that might actually solve quite a number of things, the matchmaking, the late night phone calls trying to get everyone who's awake enough to answer to go for emergency ice cream at 3am.

“Not my type,” Michael explains.

“Hey,” a voice behind Kurt says, and he turns his head to find Blaine standing there, a tray in his hands and the blue-haired girl Kurt saw at karaoke next to him.

“Blaine. Hi,” Kurt greets.

“Have a nice lunch,” Blaine says, smiles brightly.

“Thank you, you too,” Kurt answers, smiling back as Blaine walks off with the girl.

“What about him?” Michael at least has the decency to wait until Blaine is out of earshot.

“What _about_ him?” Kurt asks.

“He's cute.”

“Oh no.”

“Uh, yes? He is!”

“No, I mean, stop it. We've literally _just_ been over this.”

Michael pouts, shakes his head sadly, then perks up quickly. “If you don't want to make a move on him, do you mind if I do?”

Kurt sighs. “I'd rather you didn't. He's a freshman. And he's actually really sweet. He doesn't need any of your drama.”

“Whatever.” Michael just shrugs, continues eating as if they'd been talking about buying a sweater and Kurt had told him the color was unflattering for his skin tone. “I'm still hoping for a chance with Mister History Student anyway.”

“You really don't have a thing for names, do you?” Kurt hides his laugh around a bite of pasta.

“I have other qualities,” Michael says, grinning.

**

He's waiting for Rachel outside the small auditorium so that they can keep each other company on the train ride home. Rachel, of course, is running late. Some kind of emergency, he suspects, she's been having a lot of them this week. A sore throat, her teachers being completely unfair, a student a year above her and with slightly more experience auditioning for the same part she'd been hoping to land. Whatever it is today, he's sure he'll hear all about it on the way home and quite possibly over dinner too.

He spots Blaine sitting by himself on one of the benches in the hallway, scrolling through his phone, headphones in and head bobbing to some kind of music only he can hear. For a minute he debates going over – he doesn't want to disturb Blaine – but they've been running into each other almost every day over the past two weeks and it seems rude to ignore him. Besides, he can at least sit down while he waits for Rachel.

“Hey.”

Blaine looks up, slightly startled, as Kurt's shadow falls on him. His face lights up with recognition and delight a second later.

“Kurt!”

Kurt slides his bag off his shoulder, lowers himself onto the bench next to Blaine. “Do you have another class tonight?”

“Oh, no!” Blaine shakes his head, pulling on the cords of his earphones so they fall into his lap. “Just waiting for Jess, we're having Parks and Rec Night in her room.”

“I'm waiting for Rachel.” Kurt smiles. “I hope she doesn't take much longer, I really want to get home. I'm hungry.”

“Long day?” Blaine asks, sympathy in his voice.

“God, yes. But this is my only really insane day all week, thank god. The rest of it is usually pretty manageable.”

“Good.” Blaine smiles back. “I still think most days here are, like, completely insane, but it's only my third week, so...”

“You'll get used to it soon enough,” Kurt promises.

“At least it's fun,” Blaine muses. “Well, except for dance, but -”

“You don't like to dance?” Kurt asks.

Blaine shakes his head vigorously. “Oh, no, I love to dance. I'm just … I'm not really a good dancer, is all. But, well. I'm here to learn, right?”

Kurt nods encouragingly, even if he has a hard time believing that Blaine is a bad dancer with the light way he walks and this graceful if a little overeager energy he has about him. “It's not really my strength either,” he says. “At least Ms July let it slide for the most part, for a while I thought I'd become her preferred victim.”

“Oh. So. She does that to every class?” Blaine says. “Because …” He trails off, seemingly lost in thought.

“Unfortunately,” Kurt confirms. “She's -” he thinks of a nicer way to phrase this, but can't really think of one. “She's kind of a bitch.”

Blaine almost looks relieved at Kurt's words. “Oh, and I thought it was just me.”

“What do you mean?”

Blaine shrugs. “She's just been – saying stuff to me, and it doesn't really – it's …”

Kurt feels his heart clench with sympathy for Blaine as he understands what he's saying. “She's chosen you to pick on?”

Blaine looks embarrassed but nods. “Kind of, yeah.”

“That _bi_ \- ...I mean, I'm so sorry!”

“It's not that bad.”

“No, she shouldn't be …” He takes a breath, calming himself. “She's supposed to teach us, not tear us down!” He suppresses the urge to rub Blaine's shoulder to comfort him. “If it helps, she did the same to Rachel, and Rachel has been taking dance lessons since she was three months old. It doesn't mean you're a bad dancer, honestly, it says more about her personality than it does about your dancing!”

Blaine lets out a short bitter laugh, then seems to pull himself together and grins through it. “Well, I'll just have to get better.”

Kurt thinks about it for minute. He hates that Blaine seems so down about this, but he understands. He remembers having to cheer up Rachel continuously after Ms July had done her best to make her feel bad about herself. “You _will_ get better!”

“I hope so! I actually really do like dancing! It's just … Oh, whatever, I didn't mean to go on about this, I'm sorry! How have you been?”

Kurt laughs at that, because it's so typically Blaine to feel bad about feeling bad. And to ask him about himself when they've just talked the afternoon before, if only for a few minutes between classes. “I'm okay, I'm -” He remembers how he'd felt when his acting teacher during the first semester had accused him of slacking off even when he'd been working so hard. How he had started rehearsing at home, getting Rachel to join him and provide him with harsh feedback that came from a true place of caring and how the comfortable, non-judgmental atmosphere had helped him to let go of some of the insecurities that held him back in class. “I have an idea,” he says.

Blaine looks at him questioningly, waiting for Kurt to go on.

“How about … What if you found an older student who's already taken the class to help you out? T's really worked for me, I don't know if you... You could work on your dance steps in a more comfortable environment?”

Blaine looks skeptical. “I don't know … I haven't met that many older students yet. In karaoke, and a few people in the dorms but, I don't know if I should ask any of them, they're probably busy with their own stuff -”

“I could do it,” Kurt volunteers before he has had the time to properly think about it, once again surprising himself with the things he does and says around Blaine. “If you … want. I mean.”

Blaine's face lights up, and he looks so grateful, Kurt can't regret the offer. “That would be – But I wouldn't want to – You are so busy yourself...”

“No, I'd love to help out. Trust me, I know what it's like.”

“I...” Blaine seems at a loss for words momentarily, but recovers quickly. “That's … thank you! Only if you're sure, though!”

“Okay, then.” Kurt offers his hand and they exchange an exaggerated, silly handshake. “It's a deal. I have to warn you, though, I'm no expert myself. I promise I'll do my best, though.”

“Kurt -” Blaine looks at him, and there's a warmth in his eyes that makes Kurt's skin tingle under his gaze. “You don’t have to - I mean it, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“When do you want to meet up?” Kurt asks, slightly uncomfortable about the way Blaine doesn't look away.

“Whenever it's good for you? I don't … I'll make time.”

“Saturday morning?” Kurt suggests. “No classes on Saturday, and a decent chance of finding an unoccupied studio when everyone else is sleeping in. Unless -” he stops, remembering that not everyone keeps a compulsively organized schedule the way he does. “Unless you actually sleep in on Saturdays, in which case -”

“No, that's fine,” Blaine assures him quickly. “If that works for you, it works for me too!”

“Great.” Kurt sees Rachel approach from the direction of the small auditorium and gets up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “So, 9am?”

“Sounds good. Meet by the kiosk with the good coffee?”

Kurt can't help the grin from spreading across his face. “Sounds even better.” He waves at Blaine as he backs away. “I'll see you then.”

“See you, Kurt. And thanks again!”

He goes to meet Rachel, who, judging from the look on her face, has not had a good day, and prepares himself for listening to the best of his ability on the train ride home. He just hopes they have vegan ice cream left in the freezer, because if he will spend his Saturday morning dancing, he should get a head start on his homework tonight.


	4. Four

Kurt stretches his arms over his head, muscles still loose and heavy from sleeping, and yawns as he shuffles toward the kitchen area where the coffee maker is. It's really too early to be up. He had stayed up longer than he'd intended the night before, working on his assignments. But his dad had called and he'd spent an hour with him on the phone – he never gets to talk to his dad enough. And schoolwork is never more important than family.

He rubs his eyes, wakes himself up enough to remember where the coffee is, and starts filling water into the machine when a familiar voice interrupts him.

“Morning.”

He spins around, the coffee pot almost slipping from his fingers as he fumbles with it for a moment, water sloshing over the sides and onto the floor and his bare feet before he has a firm hold again.

“Santana.” He tilts his head, processing this new bit of information. “Good morning.”

She barely glances up from where she's sitting on the couch – _his and Rachel's couch_ – and goes back to reading something on her phone, a cereal bowl with a spoon sticking out of it in her hand. “Going somewhere?”

“What are you doing here?” He assumes it's one of those times she has decided she lives here again. It just sort of happens. Has happened every few weeks since she moved out. Even if it's been a lot less frequent lately, which leads him to assume she's here for one of two reasons: either she's run out of food again, or she's had a fight with Hayley.

“Having breakfast,” she supplies helpfully.

“Where does your girlfriend think you are?” He takes a carefully measured step forward, assessing the situation like a bomb squad approaching an old aircraft bomb. She seems calm enough, but that really doesn't mean a whole lot.

She shrugs. “What girlfriend? If you're talking about that bitch Hayley, she can -”

“How many other girlfriends do you have, Santana?” He turns back to getting the coffee ready, not too worried about her after all. It's just ice cream in that bowl. If anything serious had happened, it'd be a mug of whiskey or something equally disgusting.

“Right now?” she pretends to think about it. “Not a single one. I'm a free woman!” She shoots him a grin that looks more aggressive than joyful, wriggling her hips as well as she can manage from a sitting position. “Totally and completely free, it feels awesome! I feel like celebrating. What do you say? Clubbing tonight? Single's night out? Just us gays?”

Kurt stares at her incredulously. “Absolutely not!”

“I'm a kick-ass wing-woman. Seriously. Buy me a tequila and it's gonna be pick-your-dick night for you for as long as you can walk.”

He tries not to cringe too obviously at her crudeness. “No, thank you.”

“Aw, come on, Porcelain. Booze, a little public dry humping, even you can't say no to that.”

“I can, and I will,” Kurt informs her, sitting down at the table and opening a magazine to signal that this conversation is over. _So_ over.

“I can't go with Drama Queen Berry, no one will come near us! She's like a sad Jewish clown poodle. Besides, she tried to make me sing about my feelings last night, I can't be in the same room with her, seriously. Not gonna happen.”

Kurt sighs, closes his magazine. It's no use when Santana gets like this. The coffee maker has started making that gurgling noise anyway which means it's gonna be done any minute now. “How about you call your girlfriend and ask if she wants to go with you?”

“Um, no?”

“Why not?”

“…Because she's a self-centered, annoying bitch with big ugly man-feet?” Santana glares at him.

He gives her a stern look, making sure she knows he's not joking about this. “If you're moving back in, you're paying rent this time.”

“Personally, I think you should pay me for providing the pleasure of my company.”

Kurt pushes his chair back and gets up from the table, taking a deep breath as he pours himself a cup of coffee, considers it for a second, and then pours Santana a cup as well. He hands it off to her on the way back to his partitioned-off corner of the apartment, and she takes it with a shrug.

“Call Hayley,” he says. “Seriously. Call her.”

“You're the last person who should be giving out relationship advice, Ladyface, you've slept with one guy since you moved here,” she snaps.

It kind of stings – the comment as well as the nickname – and he thinks about snatching the coffee back out of her hands. But he's a bigger person than that. “So you're happier than me because you've had more sex? Because you don't look so good right now.” He raises an eyebrow challengingly, regretting it as soon as Santana looks up at him, a cold, calculating look in her eyes.

“At least I'm honest with them and dump them when I'm done,” she shoots back.

It's a low blow, even from someone who's obviously hurting right now, and he doesn't know how to defend himself. She is, unfortunately, right about it. So he just turns and walks off, ignoring her sulking form on the couch. She doesn't mean it. That doesn't mean he has to like it or take it.

He dresses quickly, trying to shake off the feeling of shame and regret. Damn Santana for bringing this up. He probably deserves it, though, he thinks. If there was one thing he could change about himself -

Maybe, with a bit of luck, he'll have the apartment to himself this afternoon and get to simply relax for a bit. The partitions they have put up provide a mere pretense of privacy, he knows that Rachel (and whenever she's living here, Santana) can hear every phone call he makes and every movie he watches. For the brief time he and Rachel had both had boyfriends, they'd had to work out a rather elaborate schedule of who got the apartment on which nights during the week. Even if Kurt hadn't really needed it much at all, so mostly he'd been the one who had been out to many, many karaoke nights and dinners with Michael and Janet. And, once, just once, to a club with Santana, but that had really not been one of his better decisions.

By the time he's dressed and heads for the bathroom to brush his teeth and do his hair, he hears the pipes creaking as the shower turns on. Poking his head around the partition, he sees that Santana's spot on the couch is now empty, coffee mug and ice cream bowl abandoned on the coffee table.

“ _What the_ -” He strides over to the bathroom door, hammering his fist against the wood. “Santana?”

No answer.

He sighs audibly, keeps punching the door with his hand. “Santana, get out of there! Use your own damn shower!”

Her voice is muffled through the door and the sound of the water. “ _Jeez, calm the fuck down. I'll just be fifteen minutes or so!_ ”

“Which is exactly when I need to leave!”

“ _Sucks for you_.”

“But you don't even live here.”

She snorts. “ _Rude!_ ”

“Santana, I swear, if you're not out here in ten seconds...”

But she doesn't even answer anymore, instead he hears her humming 'Valerie' under the shower. He bangs his head against the door, slaps his palms against the wood next to his face. Then, he takes a deep breath, slowly counts to ten in his head. It doesn't really work.

Well.

He'll just have to text Blaine and tell him he's going to be late.

...Except he doesn't have Blaine's number. _Oookay_. He'll just have to … be really quick getting ready and hope that Blaine won't mind him being a few minutes late.

_Wonderful._

**

Blaine is quiet getting up, because Jonas is still asleep, snoring softly (and a little annoyingly) into his pillow on the other side of the small dorm room.

It's Saturday morning. Blaine assumes a lot of the students are still asleep at 8am on a Saturday morning, at least this early in the semester.

He gets ready quickly, makes his way to the dining hall to grab a quick bite just so that his stomach won't rumble too loudly during his dance lesson with Kurt. He'll have real breakfast later, he doesn't like to eat before a workout and even if he doesn't know how much they will really do today, if it's even half as exhausting as Ms July's classes, he knows he'll be hungry after.

Well, at least Kurt is going to be a lot kinder that Ms July, and probably a _lot_ more helpful.

Blaine is surprised to see that the dining hall is actually quite well populated for a Saturday morning. Apparently, he's not the only one at this school who's getting an early start today. Or maybe, he thinks, it's a college thing. He doesn't know how it was at Dalton on the weekends, because he never boarded there.

He gets himself a small bowl of cereal – he'll get a coffee from the good kiosk in a while. It's where he's meeting Kurt anyway. He looks around for a familiar face, but it looks as though his friends are actually all still asleep. He had figured as much, and he won't be staying long anyway. So he finds himself a table and eats quickly, he does not want to be late for this. Especially since Kurt is coming all the way from Bushwick just to help him out.

By the time he arrives at the kiosk it's almost 9am and he's getting really excited. Not only about spending time with Kurt, being excited about that is pretty much a given anyway. He's still hoping that all this hanging out they are going to do is going to bring them closer to actual friendship. No, but, he's also getting really excited about the dancing itself. Blaine _loves_ to dance. Being in The Warblers, he had mostly just moved to the music, their dance steps simply complementing the songs. They had been safe, well-coordinated, but it had never been about doing anything really fun or out of the ordinary. Well, except during rehearsal when Blaine had suddenly felt like dancing on a table or the armrest of one of the heavy old leather couches. But he also remembers countless Warbler parties in someone's basement or living room, all the boys out of their blazers, some of them with their girlfriends in tow, and all of them jumping around to the music like complete maniacs. Blaine _loves_ to dance.

He stands near the kiosk, hand clutching the strap of his bag that holds his dancing shoes, and waits. He tries not to check his watch every few seconds when 9:05 rolls around and there's still no sign of Kurt – he probably just got held up somewhere. And not everyone is as obsessively punctual as Blaine. He likes being early, doesn't like to have to have to rush to be somewhere on time.

By the time it's getting close to 9:10, Blaine decides to sit down on one of the benches and wonders if maybe Kurt had meant for them to start next Saturday. They _just_ made their plans for this two days ago, it _is_ awfully short notice and they hadn't been really clear about starting this week...

At 9:18, he sighs and decides to wait another five minutes before he goes back to his room. It's funny, he doesn't really take Kurt to be the type to just forget or change his mind, he just hopes that nothing bad happened – and, if he's being honest, he's just a little bit hurt, too. At being stood up like this.

He checks his phone, which he knows won't do any good, because he never gave Kurt his number. Well. He could just find a studio anyway and practice a bit on his own, now that he's up already. It won't be as much fun as practicing with Kurt, but he doesn't want to let a perfectly good Saturday morning go to waste like this.

It's 9:27 when he finally decides to stop waiting. He gets up to get himself that cup of coffee he'd been looking forward to – by now there's a short line of people waiting to place their orders and he gets in the back, waits patiently as the people in front of him make up their minds. He will not let this get him down. There's probably a perfectly good explanation. Maybe he just did get the time wrong...

“I'm so sorry!”

He turns around, and there's Kurt, face flushed, his hair a bit flatter than Blaine has ever seen it before, and he's panting, out of breath.

“Kurt!”

“I'm so, _so_ sorry,” Kurt repeats. “Oh my god, my roommate – well, she's not even really my roommate – but she locked herself in the bathroom and I couldn't get in and then I realized I'd forgotten my wallet when I was halfway down the stairs and I ran all the way here from the subway, and … Blaine, I'm _so sorry_ , I didn't know how to contact you -”

“It's okay,” Blaine says, because Kurt looks like he accidentally kicked a puppy and he's still trying to catch his breath and it really is okay. Kurt's here, after all. And he's sorry.

“It's … I didn't mean to, I swear, I was going to -”

“Kurt,” he interrupts him. “It's fine. You're here now.”

“You must have thought I forgot, I'm so sorry, Blaine, -.”

“I – no.” Blaine shakes his head. “It's okay. Really. I figured you'd got held up somewhere.” He smiles at Kurt, not wanting him to feel bad. It wasn't Kurt's fault, after all and he's not feeling hurt anymore. He hadn't been forgotten.

“Okay.” Kurt actually smiles back now, and Blaine feels his own smile widen, because that's just what his face does when Kurt looks at him like that. “I'm still sorry, and I promise it won't happen again.”

“I believe you,” Blaine reassures him.

The line in front of them has moved, and Blaine realizes it's their turn to place their orders. He takes a step up, retrieving his wallet from his pocket. “I'll have a medium drip -”

“And a nonfat mocha.” Kurt interrupts quickly, loudly, before gently pushing him aside. His fingers close around Blaine's wrist softly, stopping him from raising his arm to pay. “No,” he says softly. “I've got this.”

“Kurt...” Blaine tries to object, but Kurt gives him a firm look.

“I made you wait out here for half an hour. Just let me pay for your coffee. Please?”

Blaine shakes his head weakly, unable to resist Kurt's pleading eyes. “I – okay. Okay.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says, and turns back to the kiosk to pay for their drinks.

Blaine can't believe that five minutes ago, he'd been feeling mildly upset and a little abandoned, because now all he feels is kind of warm and content in Kurt's company. “Thank _you_ ,” he says as Kurt hands him his coffee. “This is really nice of you.”

“It's the least I can do,” Kurt says. “And if I can give you one more piece of advice for surviving as a student here? Never turn down free coffee. College can be expensive.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Blaine promises. “Did you want to sit down for a while? You've been running here, and...”

“Might as well go and secure ourselves a studio before they're all occupied,” Kurt says. “I already made us late enough.”

“You didn't mean to,” Blaine reminds him.

“Okay. No, I didn't. We still should get going, though, people are waking up, and I don't want you to experience the full crazy of two sleep-deprived ballerinas going twenty rounds to fight out who gets the one with the bigger mirrors. No need to scare you away this early.”

Kurt takes a sip of his mocha and they start walking, slowly and next to each other and Blaine grins at him over the brim of his paper cup. He can't help it. He's in a good mood again.

“So, your Not-Roommate locked herself in the bathroom?” Blaine asks.

Kurt sighs, nods. “She's – she was in glee club with me and Rachel back in high school. Came to New York out of the blue one day and told us she was living with us now -”

“Seriously?”

“That's actually one of the saner things she's done. She's … well, you'll have to meet her to understand, there's no way to explain Santana with words. But, well, apparently she had a fight with her girlfriend – the two of them have the most exhausting relationship I have ever seen, I think for them, yelling at each other is actually a way of showing affection – anyway, she was just _there_ this morning, acting like it was no big deal. And because it isn't enough that she ate the last of the ice cream and will probably stay a week or more without paying rent, she also hogged the bathroom and no amount of shouting at her through the door could get her out of there. And that's why I'm so ridiculously late,” he finishes his story, an apologetic look on his face.

Blaine feels stressed just listening to all of that. “Thank you for showing up anyway. That sounds … exhausting.”

Kurt smiles at him. “Thank you for waiting. I was kind of afraid you'd have given up by the time I got here.”

“Nah, it's no big deal,” Blaine assures him.

“We should -” Kurt hesitates before putting on a business-like face and staring straight ahead. “We should probably exchange numbers in case anything like this happens again. So we can contact each other.”

Blaine nods, starts digging for his phone in his pocket. Because, of course, yes! It makes sense for them to have a way to contact each other if they'll be meeting regularly. He's still feeling a little thrill as he hands his phone over to Kurt, receiving Kurt's phone in exchange. This is a great idea. Another step closer to friendship successfully accomplished.

They actually find a studio easily enough, and Kurt seems surprised by that, so Blaine figures they must usually be in high demand during weekends. Well, everyone at this school is driven or they wouldn't be here. It makes sense for them to use their free time to practice.

Since they both don't need to change more than their shoes, it takes them barely a minute to get ready and then they're standing there, almost on opposite sides of the room, and Kurt looks as unsure of where to begin as Blaine feels.

“I've never actually done this before,” he admits, a little sheepishly. “Tutoring someone. I don't know -”

“I've never actually had a tutor before, so it's okay.” Blaine grins, wanting to get rid of some of the awkward tension that is suddenly between them.

“I guess...” Kurt thinks about it for a minute. “Just tell me what you want to work on and … we'll go from there? After we've warmed up,” he adds quickly.

“Okay.” Blaine takes a breath, shakes his shoulders to get them loose. Kurt is already stretching and he quickly turns away, makes himself not stare at the way Kurt's sweatpants cling to the perfect shape of his thighs and his ass as he bends down almost effortlessly.

They don't talk, but Blaine can hear Kurt's breath, the soft rustling of his clothes on the other side of the room. And he's nervous without really knowing why. This is safe. This is actually … this could be fun. He knows he's in good company, this isn't class and this isn't a seedy bar where his movements could be misinterpreted in any way. And still he feels his heart race and his face heat up all of a sudden and he wishes Kurt would say something. He wishes they could fall back into the effortless conversation that had carried them all the way here. Kurt is so easy to talk to. So he tries to think of something to say, but nothing comes to mind. Instead, he keeps warming up, acutely aware of Kurt's presence without having to look at him. He can feel him almost, stretching in silence just a little to his left.

When he's finally done and turns around, Kurt is leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching him with a look in his eyes that Blaine can't quite make out from the distance. His face is a little flushed, though, and he quickly looks down when Blaine tries to catch his eyes.

“Done?” Kurt asks, and Blaine nods.

“I think so. Yes. Good to go.” He laughs, still nervous, but then Kurt smiles and he feels better. Kurt's presence is calming. Kurt is a friend. This is fun.

“Okay. Do you have music?”

“Hold on.” Blaine kneels down on the floor by the wall where he left his bag, fishing the CD case out of it. Kurt holds his hands out and Blaine tosses it to him, Kurt catches it with a spin and walks over to the CD player that is situated on the one shelf along the wall.

“It's not the song she used in class, but it will work,” Blaine explains.

Kurt nods back at him, hits play, and smiles. “Okay. Show me what you've got.”

And Blaine stops thinking and dances.

**

Kurt doesn't actually think that Blaine needs a lot of help. To be honest, he wonders if maybe Blaine isn't better than him already, even though he's a year ahead of Blaine. His technique needs work, but he moves almost instinctively, and his energy is … captivating.

For the first few minutes, Kurt simply watches, listens to Blaine's own running commentary to his steps, nodding and smiling whenever Blaine points out something he has difficulties with. He wonders if he'd notice if Blaine didn't point it out. He also realizes that there really isn't a whole lot he can actually do to help Blaine, except practice with him.

“You seem to know what you're doing,” he points out when Blaine stops, coming to a halt just a few feet away from Kurt.

“Well.” Blaine beams, panting just a little. “I've had lessons when I was younger, and I actually do love dancing.”

“It shows.” Kurt takes a step closer, thinking this through. Everything he wants to correct about Blaine's posture, his movements, are minor details. And he's probably not really qualified to do so anyway.

“I'm mostly -” Blaine shrugs. “When I have to do this in class, it's just -”

“We need to make you feel so comfortable doing these steps that you won't even think about Ms July criticizing you,” Kurt says, because suddenly he understands what it is that Blaine needs.

“If you can help me achieve that, I'll buy you a coffee from the good kiosk every day until graduation,” Blaine promises, looking excited.

Kurt laughs. “My graduation or yours?”

“Mine,” Blaine decides. “But if you get me to be good enough that I won't even think about criticizing my dance moves, I will … oh, I know: I'll carry you to all of your classes until _your_ graduation. Because afterwards you won't have classes anymore, so. Every single class. I swear.”

“At least that way you'd never have to go to the gym again,” Kurt jokes back, and finds himself wondering whether he could lift Blaine and carry him himself. He's shorter, but his shoulders are broad and he looks – well-muscled. Like he takes care of himself. “Let's go over it again? Together this time?” he suggests, and Blaine nods excitedly and does a little excited spin right where he stands.

“Yes. Let's do this.”

**

They practice for over an hour without so much as a single break. Kurt is helpful, his advice worded kindly and his hands directing Blaine's arms when they don't want to move right, pushing on his shoulders until he remembers to let them fall back all the way. He's patient and so focused, and still breaks into loud, uncontrolled laughter when, after they decide it's enough for today, Blaine just wraps an arm around his waist and leads him across the floor in a silly little waltz that has nothing to do with the music blasting from the tiny speakers on the shelf. He just goes along with it, his arm across Blaine's shoulders and his feet finding the rhythm easily enough without even stumbling once.

“Thank you,” Blaine says, coming to a stop just next to the full-length mirror in the corner.

Kurt smiles, sweaty hair falling across his forehead, and tugs on Blaine's arm where their hands are joined, lifts it and twirls Blaine away from him. “My pleasure.”

“That was fun!”

“It was.” He sounds quietly pleased about it, and Blaine grins at him.

“You're an excellent teacher.” He thinks about asking Kurt to have another coffee with him, even if he doesn't know whether Kurt would maybe prefer to go home and change or...

“So, next Saturday, same time, same place?” Kurt asks.

“If that's okay for you.”

“Of course it is!”

“Then yes, sounds great!” To be honest, Blaine hadn't been sure until this morning when Kurt had asked him to exchange numbers whether this was a one-time thing or not. But dancing with Kurt even just for an hour has made him feel so much better about this part of his curriculum, and he thinks that if they repeat this a few times, he may actually be able to not only pass Ms July's class, but also not feel like a complete idiot during her lessons. And if he passes, he'll buy Kurt the largest and fanciest cup of coffee he can find in New York. Or cake. A really big, really beautiful cake. If Kurt even likes cake. “Do you like cake?” he asks, more thinking out loud than actually meaning to ask.

Kurt lifts an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “I love cake!”

“Cool.” Blaine suddenly realizes he's really hungry now, and also, he should probably go somewhere with that question or it will seem entirely weird. “Would you like to have some? I'll buy. I haven't actually had breakfast yet, just half a bowl of cereal. And this was exhausting.”

Kurt laughs. “Cake for breakfast?”

“Why not? I think we deserve some cake after dancing our asses off while everyone else was still asleep. Also, it's more like an early lunch by now anyway.”

“You have a point,” Kurt agrees, straightening his shoulders. “But I pay for my own cake. And I think most people weren't really sleeping anymore by the time I showed up.”

“Okay. Deal. And whatever.” Blaine grins, bouncing a little on his feet. This is a great Saturday.

“Would you mind sitting outside somewhere, though?” Kurt asks. “I've been dancing for an hour and I don't really feel like inflicting my sweaty presence on a bunch of coffee shop patrons.”

“Oh, no, that's fine,” Blaine hurries to say. “I'm not much better. Probably worse than you. And you actually – I mean, I think you're okay. For all the dancing we've done.” He feels himself blush, deciding it's probably a good idea to think before he speaks right now. When he's excited, his brain tends to shut off all his filters. Like now when he was well on his way to telling Kurt he _smelled nice_. Who says things like that? He doesn't know what's wrong with him sometimes.

Turns out the cafeteria actually has cake at this time of day. Blaine goes for chocolate and Kurt chooses a large slice of strawberry cheesecake. They take their paper plates and find an empty bench outside where the sun is shining on them, sitting down side by side to eat.

“...Should have bought another cup of coffee,” Blaine says, sighing a little.

“You weren't kidding when you said you had a problem, were you?” Kurt asks, but there's an amused glint in his eyes as he looks at Blaine.

“I could quit any time,” Blaine defends himself. “You'll find that I'm actually not drinking any right now.”

“And still you wish you were.”

“True.” He sighs again. “What can I say, Kurt, I have thought about joining a support group.”

Kurt laughs, that bright clear laugh that he only ever seems to use when he's feeling comfortable. Blaine likes that laugh. “This was a great idea, by the way,” Kurt says, lifting his cake to indicate what he's talking about.

“Having cake for breakfast is seriously underrated,” Blaine agrees.

“It is! And you're right, we've earned this.”

“See? I told you!” Blaine grins, because the sun is shining and he's been dancing all morning and they have cake.

“Even if it's technically an early lunch,” Kurt reminds him, grinning back.

They eat in silence for a few minutes before Kurt speaks again.

“So, any exciting plans for the rest of the day?”

Blaine sighs. “Homework. And tonight, karaoke, of course!”

“Ohh, that's right, I forgot about that,” Kurt answers. “At Callbacks again?”

Blaine swallows the bite of cake that stops him from speaking. “No. ...Somewhere else. Never heard of the place, actually, but Jonas says he knows the way. I can text you the directions if you want to join us?”

Kurt seems to consider it for a moment, but then shakes his head sadly. “I don't know. I have a class project I should really be working on.”

“Oh.” Blaine is careful not to let his disappointment show too obviously. “That's okay. Maybe some other time, then.”

“Yes,” Kurt says, but he seems far away for a moment. “Maybe some other time.” His body jerks upright a second later, as if he's shaking off some thought he was caught up in. “You have fun, though!”

Blaine grins. “When is karaoke ever not fun?”

“You make an excellent point.”

They sit and talk for almost half an hour before Kurt crumples up his paper plate and holds his hand out for Blaine's as well, getting up to throw them into the nearest trash can. “I guess I should be going,” he says, sitting down on the edge of the bench again, fingers toying with the strap of his bag.

“And I should probably shower,” Blaine says, wrinkling his nose at himself. “Thanks again, Kurt. I really appreciate you helping me out like that.”

“It's no big deal.” Kurt shrugs it off, but his smile is pleased, and Blaine wants to disagree. Because. It is a big deal. It is a really nice thing to do for someone you barely know, even if they are slowly getting to know each other now.

Kurt gets up, smiles down at him. “I'll see you around, then?”

“Definitely!” He tries to come up with something else to say, anything, because he doesn't want Kurt to leave. It's not like he'll be bored the rest of the day, he has lunch plans with Jess and Damian and karaoke plans with Jonas, he'll be fine. It's just that … he doesn't want _Kurt_ to leave. He likes Kurt.

“Bye, Blaine,” Kurt says, and Blaine gives him an awkward little finger wave, kicking himself mentally for the extreme uncoolness of that gesture.

“Bye, Kurt.”

Kurt walks off and Blaine watches him leave, sees Kurt turn back before the path curls around the edge of a tall building, smiling back at Blaine just briefly.

Warmth floods his stomach and his heart skips a beat as he smiles back, a rush of longing shuddering through him. Seriously. He _likes_ Kurt. It takes a second to sink in, and then he suddenly feels cold. He slumps back on the bench, groans audibly, not caring who hears it right now. Because. Damn. That was not part of the plan.

**

Closing the door behind himself, Kurt is almost glad to find Rachel sitting on the couch, watching TV. As much as he'd wished to have some privacy earlier, he's grateful for the company right now. He doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts today.

“Hi. Is Santana still here?” he asks, taking a careful look around. He's not sure he can handle another encounter like the one this morning, not when he's feeling so raw to begin with.

“Hi.” Rachel waves absentmindedly. “She went out to … I have no idea what she's doing, now that I think about it,” she answers. “But she went out.”

“Good.” Kurt lets out a relieved sigh before he goes to get some clean clothes and retreats to the bathroom for a long and relaxing shower. He feels better after that.

Rachel is still on the couch when he emerges again, and he settles next to her, feeling clean and a little sleepy now that he's back home. “What are we watching?”

“Nothing really,” Rachel says, changing the channel. “I'm just bored.”

“Oh, okay.” He lets himself sink deeper into the cushions, tries to make his mind go as lazy as his body is feeling right now. It's been a long week. He's still feeling restless, though, that annoying little thought nagging at the back of his mind, not leaving him alone.

It makes him jumpy, nervous. Afraid. And he can't help but think...

“ … Rachel?” his voice is quiet, like it doesn't want the question out there.

“Mmm?”

“Do you think I'm selfish?” he asks, blinking down at his fingers that are picking at the fabric of his pants.

“What?” She looks up at him, confused for a second, but then her eyes turn soft. “No! No, Kurt, you're not. You know you're not.”

He nods, unconvinced. “I don't know. I just … I don't know.”

She turns off the television, curls her legs underneath her body to face him fully on the couch. “What brought this on? What's wrong?”

He sighs. “Nothing. It's nothing. I've just been thinking. About … stuff. About how I don't always … I don't know. Santana said something this morning and it's been on my mind all day, and …” he shrugs, not sure how to explain. “You know how I don't always make the best choices. I'm … I can be a little difficult, and I know it.”

“Oh, Kurt, no.” Rachel leans forward, hugs him, and he lets her. It's comforting, and even if that's not what he's looking for, he'll take it. “You're not difficult. You're just you! And if someone doesn't like you for that, screw them, who needs them!”

He nods against her shoulder, hugs her back briefly before leaning back. “Thank you.” She doesn't get it, but at least she's trying. He wonders how she deals with these things. He wonders how other people do it. He knows Rachel has been through some difficult stuff too, her ups and downs with Finn, the Brody disaster. Maybe he's putting too much weight on his own failures. Still, he should be a better person. He had always believed he was a good person until things had started to crumble and break and he'd watched helplessly, unable to stop it from happening.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rachel asks, and he's seriously glad she stayed around through all those years. She can be the best friend whenever he really needs her.

He starts shaking his head, then changes his mind and rubs a tired hand across his face. “It's just … I guess I'm afraid of repeating past mistakes. That's all.” He attempts a smile, knows that Rachel will see right through it.

“Is this about a boy?”

He sighs. “No. Maybe. I don't know. I don't think so. _God_ , I hope not! I just don't want to hurt anyone else.” In fact, he never wants to see a person's heart break again and know it's his fault. Not ever again. And he curses Santana for bringing up memories he wanted to bury and thanks her for it at the same time, because if he wants to become a better person, he needs to confront this and make sure he never does it again.

“Kurt, none of what happened with Adam was your fault. You weren't ...”

“It was horrible.”

“You didn't know! You're not required to stay with the first person you date for the rest of time!”

“I wasn't honest about my feelings,” he reminds her. “I brought on that entire mess.”

“It wasn't such a mess, Kurt. I've been through at least five messier break ups. All of them with Finn, actually.” She smiles at him, rubs his shoulder soothingly. “Even though Jesse was quite spectacular as well. Literally messy,” she adds. “You're being too hard on yourself.”

“And Chandler wasn't my fault either?” He doesn't like how resigned he sounds. He doesn't like how resigned he feels. He had so much fun this morning. But this is important. He needs to get this sorted out.

“No, actually, it wasn't.” Rachel gives him a stern look. “Kurt, you're a good person. And if you ever mention this to anyone, I'll deny it, but you're a much better person than I am. The fact that you're worrying about them like this proves that.”

He shakes his head, leans back against the armrest. “Thank you, Rachel.”

“I don't think Santana has left us any ice cream, but I can go out and buy you some, if you want?” she offers, and this time when he smiles at her, it feels genuine.

“That's not necessary. But I appreciate the offer. Can we just watch something and forget about boys for a while?”

“Of course!” She punches his arm affectionately. “What are you in the mood for?”

He thinks about it. “Something old. Not _really_ old, just … older.”

“When Harry Met Sally.”

“Perfect!”

Rachel squeals, slides off the couch to find the movie.

Kurt tips his head back and smiles at the ceiling. The tight feeling in his chest is still there, but it aches a little less. And he decides to not feel bad for lying about a class project to the sweet, excited boy with the pretty eyes and warm smile. It's for Blaine's own protection. It's better for everyone involved if they don't get too close. And that's that. Things don't always go the way you want them to and sometimes what you want turns out to be the opposite of where you're going. That's just life, he supposes.

“Ready?” Rachel snuggles in beside him, and he rests his head on her shoulder, truly grateful for the company and this one true friend who has stuck with him through every single time he veered off course.

“Yes.” He'll spend the rest of this late morning watching Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal getting it wrong. Maybe this movie is a better life lesson than he'd ever given it credit for.


	5. Five

Jess is already waiting for him when he comes out of his morning class, and Blaine smiles at her and accepts her quick hug before they make their way to the dining hall.

“Is Damian joining us?” Jess asks. “I've tried to text him, but my phone is an unreliable piece of crap and I don't know if he got it.”

Blaine shakes his head. “He has to meet with the vocal coach, I think. Or he just doesn't like us anymore.”

Jess sighs dramatically. “Oh, great. Is it because of my hair?” She twirls a strand of faded blue around her finger, pouting. “I just never have the time to re-dye it. Stupid fucking classes. And it's so boring alone and I never know whether I've got everything covered or if it will look weird...”

“Do you want me to help you?” Blaine offers. He doesn't really have any plans tonight anyway, aside from studying.

“Oh, would you?” Jess jumps excitedly. “See, this is why I always wanted a gay best friend.”

Blaine laughs. “Happy and only very slightly offended to be your own personal stereotype. I could come over to your room around 7?”

“Yup, that works for me.”

They round a corner, and run almost directly into Kurt, who's reading something on his phone.

“Hey,” Blaine greets.

Kurt looks up, his face lighting up for a second before his smile turns forced. “Hi,” he says, gestures with both hands. “I have to -” and with one little nod, he basically speedwalks away from them.

“See you,” Blaine says quietly to Kurt's retreating back, then sighs and hangs his head.

“What the fuck was that?” Jess asks, confused. “Don't you, like, know each other?”

Blaine shrugs, walks on, but Jess quickly catches up and hangs onto his arm as she falls into step beside him. “There's a story there and I need you to tell me. Is he being a jerk? Do I need to kick his ass? I will totally do that for my new gay best friend.”

“No, no.” Blaine shakes his head. “You don't need to do anything like that. And there isn't a story there. I bet he was just in a hurry.”

He knows Kurt wasn't in a hurry. This has become a strange sort of pattern they have fallen into, and he doesn't like it. He doesn't like it one bit. He also doesn't know what to do about it. Every Thursday, they have yoga together. Every Saturday, Kurt gets up early to come all the way to campus to help Blaine with his dancing. During those times, they hang out, they talk, they laugh, they go for coffee more often than not when they're done. But every single time he runs into Kurt outside of those set dates, Kurt never really talks to him, barely even acknowledges Blaine's existence. And it hurts. It always hurts until Kurt shows up at yoga or for their dance tutoring and is so nice and so _Kurt_ and so much the boy Blaine wants so desperately to become friends with. The boy Blaine likes in a way that goes a little beyond friendship, if he's being honest, but that's his problem, not Kurt's.

So, yes, there is a story there. But since he's not even sure himself of what that story actually is, he prefers to not even attempt to put it into words for Jess.

“You know I'm not going to let this go, right?” Jess asks, squeezing his arm a little.

“You might as well,” Blaine tells her. “Really, it's nothing. He helps me rehearse for dance class, that's all -”

“That's the dance dude?” Jess turns back, craning her neck as if she's trying to look after Kurt, who is probably long gone by this point. “Oookay, hobbit, you're so telling me what's going on there. I mean, you're _always_ happy as a puppy, but it's literally disgusting every Saturday after your little tutoring session. And -” she looks at him, assessing him in a way that makes him a little uncomfortable. “...right now you look like a puppy whose favorite toy got taken away. What's up with that?”

Blaine laughs, trying to shrug it off. “You're insane. Stop psychoanalyzing me. It's nothing.”

Jess relents for the moment, but Blaine has the feeling she's not really done talking about this. Once she gets an idea, she can be unbelievably stubborn.

He finds he's right when he goes over to her room that night to help her dye her hair. It's Friday, they don't have class the next day, and even though Blaine has to get up fairly early for dance tutoring the next day, he agrees to stay over to watch a movie once they're done.

He's a little nervous sneaking into the girl's dorm bathroom with Jess, because, well, he's a guy, and also he figures you're probably not allowed to smear blue hair dye all over the meticulously cleaned dorm bathroom sinks. But when he voices his concerns to Jess, she simply laughs at him.

“What are they gonna do, expel us?”

He shrugs, still uncomfortable as he looks around to make sure no one sees before he quickly pushes the door open and hurries inside, relieved when Jess locks it behind them. “Well, maybe not that, but...”

Jess pinches his cheek. “You're so cute when you're worried,” she says as if speaking to a child, and he rolls his eyes at her.

“Excuse me for not being a notorious rule breaker like you are.”

“It's fine, I can teach you,” she promises, and grins at him.

Later they sit on her bed, Jess's hair a vibrant blue again, watching Juno on her laptop. Blaine can feel her side-eyeing him, and he knows what she's thinking. He keeps quiet, hoping against hope that she will decide to be a decent human being and just forget about it. Of course, he has no such luck.

“So,” she starts, twenty minutes into the movie. “I believe there was a certain story you wanted to tell me?”

“I'm pretty sure there wasn't,” he answers, focusing on the laptop screen.

“Don't be an asshole about this, come on,” she practically begs. “I can tell there's something going on between you and Mr. Perfect Hair, and we're friends. Friends are supposed to talk about these things!”

He sighs, shaking his head. “It's nothing. I swear I'd tell you if there was something.”

“Do you want there to be something?” she asks, and Blaine slumps back against the wall, lifting his shoulders in a quiet gesture of _how the fuck am I supposed to explain this_.

“We have yoga together. He helps me with my dance steps. He gave me his number. And he's really nice, I just think – I don't know. He's a year ahead of us. He probably just doesn't want to hang out with a silly little freshman.”

“Uh, he kind of does, though, doesn't he?” Jess gives him a confused look. “Like, every fucking Saturday.”

Blaine nods, because yes, that's what has been confusing him too. Kurt is never cold to him when they do hang out. And for the first two weeks after they had exchanged numbers, he had texted back politely and kindly every time Blaine had invited him to join them for karaoke or lunch or whatever. Even if he had always refused. After a while, Blaine had stopped asking, because it had just seemed like Kurt wasn't interested. It's the open and friendly way Kurt behaves toward him when they do hang out that just simply confuses the hell out of him. He doesn't understand. It's like Yoga And Dance Kurt is a completely different person than Public Kurt.

“Maybe he doesn't want to be seen with me or something.” It doesn't seem a likely scenario. Kurt is too nice to be like that. It's the only explanation Blaine has been able to come up with, though.

“In that case, he's a giant jerk and doesn't deserve to hang out with you,” Jess decides.

“He's not a jerk, though,” Blaine says. Because it's the truth. It doesn't make any sense.

“Kind of sounds like he is.” Jess shrugs.

“You don't know him,” Blaine explains. “He's kind and smart and funny and just so … I really enjoy spending time with him …” he breaks off, not knowing why he's defending him. It just seems like the thing to do. He just wants to figure this out. He doesn't _have_ to be friends with Kurt, but he doesn't want his friends to think that it's because Kurt isn't good enough to be a friend.

“Ohhh my god,” Jess exclaims. “You totally have a crush on him.”

Blaine can feel himself blush, stares at his knees. “It doesn't matter,” he mumbles.

“Maybe he has a crush on you too and he's just shy,” Jess muses.

“He's not shy.”

“You should totally ask him out!”

Blaine sighs audibly. “Weren't you there this morning? I don't think he'd say yes.” At least not Public Kurt, he corrects in his head. When they're dancing, when they go for coffee after yoga, which they still do, it's an entirely different story. There are moments – moments when he truly believes that he'd have a shot with him. Which is a terrifying thought when he remembers that he doesn't know the first thing about dating and has a tendency to horribly misjudge things.

“Oh, Blainey Bear,” Jess says, throwing her arms around him. “He might! Turn on the prep school boy charm and sweep him off his feet.”

“Trust me, that's not a good idea,” he says. “The last time I tried that, I got someone fired.”

“Well.” She sits back on her heels, chewing her bottom lip, obviously thinking up a plan of action for him. “Aside from the fact that I absolutely need to hear that story as soon as possible – how did you get guys to go on dates with you in the past? I mean, why is it so different with him?”

Blaine pauses, thinks quickly. He's not sure he wants to tell Jess about … anything, really. On the other hand, he can't lie about this. Not to someone who he's hoping to be friends with for quite some time. Lies are exhausting and he has never liked lying. “I … haven't,” he admits. “Dated. In the past.”

Her eyes go wide as she looks at him in disbelief. “Fuck! But you're so hot! And cute as a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles! Are you fucking serious?”

He feels really uncomfortable now. “It's just … it never … happened. Like.” He swallows. “Ohio isn't exactly the best place to be out and even though I was, it just … it was difficult.”

Jess shakes her head. “There wasn't anyone? Like, _ever_?”

“Not really?” he answers. “I mean, there was a guy I had coffee with a couple of times, but that didn't work out. And then there was … his name was Sebastian and he was -” he thinks about how best to phrase this. “He was … I guess he was interested. Very obviously interested. And we did hang out a few times, he took me out to a gay bar, we danced, and -” he doesn't want to get into what that night became, doesn't even want to think about it. It still makes him feel so _cheap_. “That's all. It never really went anywhere after that.” Because he didn't want it to, was too ashamed to even look at Sebastian for weeks after that night. He doesn't tell her that. He's never told anyone about that.

“Okay.” Jess tilts her head, obviously thinking about this. “In that case, we need a plan. A good one. I'm working under the assumption here that you like this guy?”

Blaine forces himself to laugh and shake his head. “Seriously, let's just watch the movie, okay?”

“But -”

“It's okay. I'm okay. It's nothing.”

Jess just looks at him. “I don't believe you. You know I don't believe you.”

But at least she lets it go for now.

**

The next morning, he meets Kurt by the kiosk with the good coffee, just like they've done every Saturday for the past five weeks since they started this.

Kurt is already there when Blaine arrives, holding two cups of coffee and smiling when he sees Blaine.

“Hi,” he calls, his voice cheerful and his eyes so warm, and Blaine feels his palms tingle and his heart skip a beat at the joy on Kurt's face. This is the boy he likes. The boy he stopped to ask for directions. This is the Kurt he loves hanging out with.

“Hi,” Blaine says back, accepting the paper cup Kurt offers him. “You really didn't have to,” he adds.

Kurt just laughs. “It's no big deal. I was here early and, yeah. It's no big deal.”

“Thank you,” Blaine says.

Kurt grins, almost shyly, and walks next to Blaine as they make their way toward the dance studios. “So, any plans for the weekend?”

Blaine thinks about it, really thinks about it. And he figures one more try can't hurt. He'll give up soon, but he wants to figure this out, figure Kurt out. “No, actually. Nothing specific. Karaoke got canceled since half the group has the flu, so I don't know. What are you doing tonight?” He takes a deep breath, he can do this. He's been rejected before. He'll get over it. “Do you maybe want to hang out? We could go to karaoke by ourselves.”

Kurt doesn't look at him, instead seems very interested in the architecture of the administration building they're walking past at this moment. “I can't, I'm sorry. It's a friend's birthday party tonight, I already said I'd go.”

“Oh, of course.” Blaine sighs. He feels like such a bad person, doubting Kurt's story, but he can't help it. He does. “Maybe some other time, then.”

“Yes, sure.”

They find an empty studio easily enough, and it's so much fun dancing with Kurt, Blaine just can't stay mad at him. He was never really mad at him to begin with anyway. Whatever is going on with Kurt during the week, it doesn't matter when they're dancing.

“You're getting really good at this,” Kurt compliments as Blaine spins him, then wraps his arm around his waist and lowers him into a dip.

Blaine grins excitedly. “This is so much fun! I wish I could just practice with you all the time and never go back to class.”

“Ms July does have a tendency to suck all the fun out of dancing,” Kurt agrees as Blaine returns him to a standing position. His hands linger on Blaine's shoulders for just an extra second and it's not really a big deal at all, but it reminds Blaine. Of all the things that still confuse him about Kurt.

He keeps quiet, keeps dancing. But it stays in the back of his mind all morning, nagging at him until his feet stop working properly.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asks, concerned, as Blaine stumbles his way through a series of steps he had down perfectly from the start.

“What? Yeah, sorry, distracted,” Blaine answers. Dammit. He really has to focus and stop acting like a naïve little prep school boy. Still, Kurt is so nice and helpful and even flirty at times with his lingering hands and those smiles he throws at Blaine and it makes Blaine feel … all over the place. Like he wants to hug Kurt and grab and shake him until he tells him what his deal is. He hates when he gets like that, feels like a stupid innocent teenager again. Even if he's not that innocent, not really. He's … in this weird in-between place, and he has no experience that counts and he's just this stupid half-virgin who can't control his feelings and he needs to get over this. Now. “I'm okay, let's do this again.”

Kurt nods, takes Blaine's hand to place it on his hip. “Okay.”

It's when they're done and Blaine is changing his shoes and Kurt smiles at him all open and friendly and asks, so innocently “Want to go get coffee?” that Blaine blurts it out, because he's tired and sweaty and so, so frustrated by now.

“Are we friends, Kurt?”

Kurt looks shocked, taken aback, and Blaine feels part sorry and part embarrassed, because, okay. That was a _really_ weird thing to say.

“I – Of course we are!” It sounds honest. It sounds surprised. And Blaine wants so badly to believe it. But...

He nods. “Okay. Just -”

“Why? I mean, I thought...”

“It's just …” He feels even more stupid now. It sounds so childish, saying it out loud. “When we run into each other, like, outside of yoga or these dance sessions?” He waits for Kurt to nod before he continues. “It always feels like … like maybe you … don't. Want to, uh, talk to me.”

Kurt's mouth falls open and his eyes go wide, his face pale as he digests what Blaine said. “Shit,” he finally manages. “No, no no no. That's not … I'm not …”

“It's okay, it's -” Blaine shakes his head, smiling apologetically. “I'm just being weird, here. Forget it. That was weird.”

“No.” Kurt walks over to him, stops a few feet away, runs a nervous hand through his sweaty hair. “Blaine, I … I'm sorry. I didn't mean to … I didn't mean to. Make you feel like I was ignoring you or something. I was just, the past few weeks were … I'm really sorry. We are friends! I'm sorry I haven't been acting like it.”

“Kurt, I didn't mean to make you feel bad.” Blaine takes a step forward, feeling awful now. He should have kept his mouth shut. “I was just wondering, and I tend to lose my filter when I'm tired. And I haven't been sleeping well.” He knows that now they're both making excuses, but he just wants Kurt to smile again. He just wants himself to stop acting like a damn five-year old.

“I just don't want you to think that I'm … that I'm doing it on purpose when we run into each other,” Kurt explains. “I wasn't aware that I was being an asshole. I'll be better from now on.”

“It's fine,” Blaine says.

“Can I buy you another coffee?” Kurt asks, eyes almost pleading. “To make it up to you?”

“No,” Blaine says. Kurt's face falls and he adds quickly, “you can let me buy _you_ coffee.”

“But I …”

“You said you wanted to make it up to me?”

“Yes, but I don't see -”

“Kurt?” he interrupts. “I really want to buy you coffee. If you're my friend, you'll let me do this.”

Kurt laughs, bright and beautiful, and nods. “You're ridiculous. Yes. Yes, okay, you may buy me coffee.”

“Yay,” Blaine exclaims, quietly, and grins. Maybe they have a shot at becoming friends yet.

**

Kurt is almost grateful to find Santana home when he returns home that day. She's still in a standoff with Hayley, even if he knows they've been having sex fairly regularly. They just don't want to live together right now, and it just seems natural for Santana to stay with them for the duration of her weird not-break up.

He showers, changes, then sits down opposite her at the dining table where she's painting her nails.

“'sup, Lady?” she asks, and he decides not to be offended. Coming from her, it's almost a compliment anyway.

“Can I ask you something? From one giant bitch to another?”

She snorts. “You're about as much of a bitch as a Disney princess. But for the sake of this exercise, I'll let you pretend.”

He rolls his eyes at her. “Thank you, I guess. Even though I'm not sure that one was actually a compliment.”

“Whatever.” She shrugs. “This is about that cute piece of ass you've been dance tutoring, isn't it? Because usually you look kind of high as a kite when you come back and today you look like you woke up and found that all your favorite lady sweaters were gone.”

He's really trying not to get offended, but it's proving to be difficult. Still, he knows that she's probably better to talk to about this than Rachel. “I guess I've been kind of … mean to him? Lately? Without meaning to. Like,” he sighs. “Ignoring him outside of dance and yoga and stuff.”

“Um, why?” Santana asks. “That sounds stupid.”

“It kind of was,” he admits. “I just … didn't want him … to like me.”

“Why would you – Oh. Oh, good lord. Tell me you aren't serious.” She looks at him incredulously. “You're certifiable.”

“I'm not good at … that.”

“At people liking you? How can you possibly be bad at that? That doesn't even make sense.”

“You know what happened with -”

“Yeah, I know. You dated, and you broke up. Kurt?” She looks at him, something like concern visible in her eyes. “Just know that I say this with love. But … get the fuck over it already, okay? It happens.”

“It was horrible,” he insists. “I was … you know what _happened_ , you know how _selfish_ I was -” He throws up his hands in frustration, wanting her to understand. “Hell, _you_ were the one who pushed me to break up with him because you said what I was doing wasn't fair to him. You know it was all my fault.”

“You were being kind of a dick to him,” Santana agrees. “But I don't see what that has to do with your little secret dance partner.”

“I did the same thing to Chandler. I thought I could do it, and I made _them_ think I could do it, and then I had to tell them that I couldn't. I hurt their feelings. I hurt _them_. I don't want -”

“But that just happens, you know?” Santana sighs. “People who date break up sometimes. That's just life.”

“No.” Kurt shakes his head emphatically. “No. You don't get it. I'm not made for it. Okay? I'm … I can't use other people to figure out all this stuff, I need to be sure what I want, I can't … I can't experiment with people's emotions, it's so unfair -”

“You're such a drama queen!” Santana actually raises her voice at him, and he shrinks back a little in surprise. “Do you know how many people I have dumped? Do you think it makes me a bad person?”

“You don't string them along for weeks before you gather the courage,” he says quietly. “And you thought you wanted to be with them. It's the intent, don't you get it?”

“You didn't want either of them?”

“At the time I thought I did,” he answers, feeling so tired, so tired.

“Then you did nothing wrong. God. You're so … naïve.”

It hurts, more than any of the nicknames she throws at him. Because it's true. He's naïve and stupid and it hurts people. Which is why the next time he does this, the next time he lets someone think there's a possibility for more, he needs to be _sure_. He can't go through any of that ever again.

“And I still fail to see what any of this has to do with the dance guy. Unless -” she smirks at him. “Oh, I see.”

“What?”

“You hittin' that?”

“What? No!”

“Do you want to?”

He shakes his head at her. “I can't believe you.” He gets up from the table to retreat to his corner of the apartment. He's decided he rather wants some peace and quiet.

“Kurt,” she calls after him, and he looks back at her just because he knows she'll follow him if he doesn't. Also, when she uses his name, he knows it's important. “Don't worry about it, okay? Liking him doesn't have to be a bad thing. Just … don't lie to yourself about what you want. And don't lie to him.”

He smiles. It does sound like good advice. “Thanks, Satan.”

“You're welcome, Ladypants.”

**

Kurt thinks about it. He lies awake that night, going over everything in his head, all his worries, all the residual shame his last attempts at having a love life like everyone else have left him with. It's just … he's so _very_ bad at it. And it's not even that he thinks of Blaine as a potential … something. It's not that. Sure, he's cute, he's smart, he's … kind of amazing, really. But he probably has so many options. He doesn't need Kurt.

He remembers Chandler, sweet and funny and ridiculous, and all the silly texts back and forth until Kurt had caved, texted back, _yes, let's go for coffee_.

He remembers sitting through a handful of awkward dates, remembers the compliments, remembers getting a glimpse of what he'd always wanted, remembers kissing Chandler and … not feeling a thing. He remembers lying awake at night, thinking about what it meant. Thinking about all the things it didn't mean. And he remembers the hurt in Chandler's eyes when he'd told him it wasn't working. He had never felt more awful in his life.

All the dumpster tosses, all the slushies and hurtful comments, they all paled in comparison to the quiet yet insistent discomfort and shame he had felt upon putting that hurt look on someone else's face. Because he knows what rejection actually feels like, he'd only ever been rejected before Chandler came along.

Chandler's life hadn't been much different from his own. He had dreamed the way Kurt himself had dreamed, he had hoped for a shot at a normal teenage experience the same way Kurt had. Kurt, who had seemed to return his attention.

Kurt knows they would never have stayed together. He knows they only ever attempted it because, well, because their options were somewhat limited in Lima, Ohio. Still. Dashing someone's hopes, breaking someone's heart – he had hated himself all the way home and well into the next month. He still hates himself sometimes. Because … he had known from the start. That it wasn't real. He had just … he had wanted it so much, too much. He had hoped that maybe – they could get used to each other. He knows that's not how it works. He just hopes that Chandler found someone better. Someone so much better than Kurt.

He had sworn to himself to never indulge like that again. To only do what he knew was right. 

And then he had moved to New York. He had started at NYADA, finally, after working in his dad's garage and the Lima Bean for a year while all of his friends went off to amazing places.

New York, after Ohio, had been overwhelming. The city, college … boys. Suddenly, there had been options. So many options.

Like Adam, who had kept showing up again and again, between classes, in the dining hall. Always nice, always interested. It had taken Kurt weeks. Weeks of innocent flirtation, weeks of Rachel telling him to 'go for it,' even if he had never quite figured out what it meant or how to do that. And, in the end, he had given in. It had been so flattering, for once, to have someone pursue him like that. And he'd seen his friends do the same thing a million times, effortlessly, or so it seemed, flirting and going on dates and breaking up and dating someone else. If they could, then so could he, he had told himself.

And for a few months, everything had been great and new and exciting.

With Chandler, things had never moved beyond hand-holding and kissing. And Kurt had been thrilled to finally get some real experience, and Adam had been fine with moving at Kurt's speed. Which was slow, but it hadn't been a problem. Everything had been easy and wonderful. Until a few weeks after their six-months anniversary, when Adam had told him he loved him and Kurt had known with frightening clarity that he didn't feel the same. That he never could feel the same.

So he hadn't said it back. He's not sure what he said or did that night. He just knows that after that, things had never been the same. He had started making up excuses to get out of date nights, he had taken hours to answer texts. He had thought about breaking up with Adam so many times, but … he hadn't known how to do it.

In the end, when even Santana had started telling him he was being a total jerk, he had just told him. That he didn't feel the same. And it had been awful. There hadn't been a fight, there hadn't been any drama. Maybe with drama, it would have been easier. Instead, Adam had just looked at him, so sad, murmured “I know.” And that had been the end.

Kurt had felt horrible for not being heartbroken. He had felt horrible for once again putting that look of hurt on someone else's face.

He had always believed that he knew his own heart. It turns out that maybe he doesn't. That maybe he's just as naïve and innocent as Santana always tells him he is. He knows that people break up. But he hates that both times he had tried dating, he had been the instigator of the break up. That both times he had ended up hurting someone nice.

And both times, he had thought he could do it, make another person happy. It's all he wants, happiness. For himself and someone else. He wants to make someone happy, and instead he brings people pain.

This is why he's afraid of getting close to someone again, this is why he keeps brushing off Blaine when they run into each other. He's afraid of leading him on. He thinks he really likes Blaine, but if he's learned one thing, it's that he can't trust his own heart when it comes to those things. In fact, the very feeling that he likes Blaine is the very reason he was ever even afraid of accidentally leading him on, and that is such a fucked up thought, it makes him roll onto his stomach to groan quietly into his pillow. He's such a mess when it comes to these things.

However, he realizes he's been behaving stupidly childish. He's pretty sure that Blaine doesn't even think of him this way. And he really wants to keep hanging out with Blaine, be friends with him. He'll just have to be very careful not to send any wrong signals. He can do it. He doesn't ever want Blaine to think that he doesn't like him. He has already, unintentionally, hurt him by being distant toward him.

So he makes a plan. To run into Blaine the next day at school and talk to him, about classes, the weather, whatever. Just to be nice. If he's just very careful, it will all be okay. It's his problem. Not Blaine's.

**

Over the next few days, Blaine notices a remarkable change in Kurt. It's almost like the first week they had known each other – they walk down the halls together, they talk, they get coffee. He's not as distant anymore, even though he's still guarded. But then, Kurt is always guarded. This is nothing out of the ordinary.

They even have lunch together on Wednesday. Jess is there too, and Kurt's friend who he's seen him with a couple of times, a somewhat exhausting but nice guy named Michael who can't shut up about a history major from NYU he recently started dating.

“ … and, I mean, it's not like I don't appreciate winter clothes, don't get me wrong. But seriously, you should see John's arms. It's an actual crime to hide them in sleeves.” He notices Jess grinning into her salad and nods his head emphatically. “No, really. I'll introduce you sometime, and you'll understand why I mourn the demise of summer. Some people shouldn't be allowed to wear anything but tank tops all the time.”

Blaine catches Kurt's gaze and Kurt rolls his eyes at him and grins, almost conspiratorially. Blaine grins back. Everything is good.

They leave the dining hall together, and Michael, who seems to have taken a liking to Jess, immediately hooks his arm through hers, moving onto a detailed description of John's legs. Jess looks back at Blaine, obviously looking for help, but Blaine just shrugs as if to say _nope, you're on your own here_ and falls into step beside Kurt.

After yoga the next day, they get their usual cup of coffee.

On Friday, they don't run into each other at all, but it hardly registers with Blaine. They'll hang out Saturday morning, after all.

He makes a point of being early the next day, so that he can buy coffee for Kurt this time. Kurt accepts it with a smile and they chat easily on their way to the studio.

Blaine is feeling restless and a little silly today, so their tutoring mostly turns into a dance party, little technique and a lot of jumping around. He has compiled a CD of all his favorite songs to dance to, and he sings along loudly and making his most ridiculous show faces, happy when Kurt joins him after the second song.

“ _We will never be never be anything but loud_ ,” he sings directly at Kurt, who practically shouts it back at him, his face flushed and hair in disarray.

This is the best tutoring session they have had so far, Blaine decides.

“What has gotten into you today?” Kurt asks, laughing a little breathlessly as Blaine takes his hands and spins them in a circle.

“I have no idea.” Blaine beams, feeling great. “I've had a really good week.”

“I can tell.” Kurt just goes with it, behaving as ridiculously as Blaine does, and their hour of dancing seems to fly past.

“God, now I'm really hungry,” Blaine remarks as they exit the studio.

“Same.” Kurt presses a hand to his stomach. “Early lunch?”

“Sounds perfect,” Blaine agrees, and follows Kurt to the dining hall.

“I never thought I'd be living off dining hall food so much,” Kurt admits over a large plate of fries.

“Why's that?” Blaine asks.

He shrugs, pretending to be embarrassed. “Oh, you know. I had all these plans of being this well-organized, successful adult who goes for a run every morning, goes to class, cooks his own healthy meals, goes out with equally grown-up friends and falls asleep on a text book at night. I had this whole montage featuring me in my head. But when I got here, it was mostly just … chaos.” He laughs. “It's stupid.”

Blaine shakes his head at him. Kurt _is_ one of the most organized people he has ever met. “Yeah, I guess this place has a tendency to make you lose control over things like a sleeping schedule or regular meals. I kind of pictured it the same way, though.”

“I kind of like that it's different than I thought,” Kurt admits. “I mean, not everything here is the way I imagined, but it's still – it's so much better than Ohio in so many ways.”

“Definitely,” Blaine agrees. “And the chaos is part of the fun. Even if I have to admit that I'm still somewhat adjusting to it.” It's the truth. This is so different from his Dalton days. It's still a little much some days.

“You seem to be doing okay,” Kurt says, smiling warmly.

“I hope so,” Blaine says, smiling back.

**

Jonas is out that night, sleeping over at his boyfriend's place.

It's the first night in months that Blaine has a room to himself and he decides to just stay in for once. Watch something on his laptop, maybe go to bed early. He hasn't done that in weeks. There is always something going on.

In the end, he ends up laying on his bed in his sweatpants, listening to some music and just letting his thoughts drift. He's fairly happy with the way things have gone so far for him. He has settled in well at NYADA, he has great friends, and he likes his classes. He's also really tired.

He drifts in and out of sleep, fragments of dreams drifting to the surface of his consciousness whenever he blinks his eyes open.

Until he wakes up from a particularly pleasant dream and finds himself lying on his stomach, lazily rutting against the mattress. He sighs, rolls over, lets his hand drift down to cup himself where he's already very hard in his pants.

He never has the time these days, and when he has the time, he has no privacy. It's been a while. And tonight, he actually _can_. And, god, does he want to. _Needs_ to, actually, he finds as he presses down with the heel of his hand and liquid fire shoots up his spine. It's been too fucking long.

So he sinks deeper into his bed, fumbling his pants down with trembling hands. His teeth clench to muffle his groan as his right hand wraps around his aching cock, left hand pushing up his shirt so it won't get stained as he begins working himself too fast, too dry, too furiously. He knows he has time, but that's exactly the point. He can let this be quick. He can always go again later, take his time.

It feels amazing, and he has to be careful to stay quiet, he knows the walls are thin and it's not that late, everyone in the adjoining rooms is probably still awake. But now that he's started, he can't stop. He needs this, and he needs it now.

He's a healthy young man, he has urges, and he's had to ignore them so many times over the past weeks … Sometimes he jerks off in the showers after everyone has gone to bed, but then it's rushed and just to take the edge off. He likes the thought of an entire night to himself.

He tightens his fingers the way he likes it, thinks about a different hand around him and this time he can't muffle the moan that escapes his throat.

This is so wrong. But.

It's so hard not to think about _him_ , his hips, the fluid-graceful movement of his body as it dances, walks, exists...

He can't... he can't... Kurt is his friend, he's his friend, he can't use him like this, it's wrong, but he can't...

His hips come off the bed to push himself harder faster through the circle of his fist and everything curls too tightly low in his stomach, want and desperation so thick it's almost tangible, and he can't...

Kurt's lips, his hands, his legs, his beautiful beautiful voice, that smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes, muscles in his back shifting under Blaine's hands when they dance together, and it's the dance, it's the stupid dance, it always turns him on so much.

He shoves a fist into his mouth to silence his noises as he comes too quickly, too hard, all over his hand and stomach, pleasure like a sharp knife in his gut until his muscles give out and he slumps back into the mattress.

Chest heaving, skin tingling with the aftershocks of orgasm, he doesn't know if his face burns more from coming so hard or from shame. Because _god_ that was wrong. It's the dancing, it does things to him.

Oh god. He's such a creep for doing this. But Kurt and everything he does and they way that he moves and his arms, oh _god_ those arms...

He keeps his eyes shut, heart still racing and little shocks running up his spine. He hasn't come this hard in a long time. And he knows, he _knows_ it's not just because he really needed it. It's _Kurt_.

Beautiful, sweet, amazing Kurt, who is his friend.

And Blaine decides to not only buy him coffee when they meet the next time, but also the largest slice of cake he can find. Kurt won't know what he's apologizing for, but maybe it will at least make Blaine feel less guilty.


	6. Six

It steadily gets colder outside with Thanksgiving fast approaching, and Blaine loves his life at NYADA and in New York a little more every day. Jess, Jonas and Damian are no longer his only breakfast/lunch/dinner companions, more often than not the three of them end up sitting with Kurt and his friends.

Michael seems to have adopted Jess anyway, but Blaine is always glad to see Janet, who's quiet and seems to have a smile and a kind word for everyone, he's always glad to see Kurt of course, Kurt who has the best sense of humor and the nicest smile, and he's slowly getting used to Rachel as well. He had been a little irritated by her at first, but Kurt seems to like her, so he's decided he's giving her a chance. He hasn't met Kurt's second on-and-off roommate Santana yet, but from what both Kurt and Rachel tell him about her, he's not entirely sure he even wants to.

“So, I'm just going to stay here instead,” Michael says. “It's the first Thanksgiving I haven't gone home, but I really have no desire to see my aunt Susie and sit through another lecture about how I just haven't met the right girl yet.”

“That really sucks,” Blaine offers. He's never really had to deal with that kind of stuff, and he's glad. His father may have needed a while to get over the initial shock, his parents don't always _get_ him, but Blaine has always known that when it comes down to it, he has his family's support, and, what's more, their unconditional love. It seems he's really lucky that way.

“Well, yeah.” Michael shrugs from across the table they are sharing with Kurt, Rachel and Jess. “It might be fun, though, to celebrate here.”

“I'm staying too,” Kurt jumps in.

“So am I,” Rachel says. “Plane tickets are so expensive. Kurt and I are saving up for Christmas.”

“You should both come over!” Michael sits up a little straighter. “We can celebrate together! Blaine, Jess, what about you? Are you staying?”

Blaine and Jess exchange a look. “I don't know,” Blaine admits. “I was going to go home, but -”

“I'm going home,” Jess says, sounding almost sad about it. “Fuck. If I had known...”

“Blaine, you _have_ to stay,” Michael begs. “The more the merrier. Bring Jonas and Damian.”

Blaine thinks about it. It's not like he has plane tickets. Cooper was supposed to drive up to New York for a short visit next week and take him home with him for Thanksgiving. He'll have to talk to his parents about it, maybe Cooper can reschedule his visit for the week before Christmas instead … He catches Kurt's gaze, who is smiling at him shyly. And, he thinks, _fuck it_. “I'll see what I can do,” he promises.

“Awesome!” Michael seems close to vibrating out of his seat with excitement. “This is going to be the best Thanksgiving of all time!”

“Please tell me you're not going to cook,” Kurt says, looking a little terrified.

Michael glares at him. “I'm perfectly capable of preparing a Thanksgiving meal for thirty or so of my closest friends!”

“Whoa, when did this get upgraded to thirty people?” Kurt asks, shocked.

“Well, I'll have to invite John, obviously. And he'll want to bring friends, and we'll have to check with Janet, and she might want to bring some people too, and Blaine? How many people do you think are going to tag along with you and Jonas? Do you think you can still talk Jess into going too?”

“I'm sitting right here,” Jess snaps, waving her hands in annoyance.

“I … don't know.” Blaine shrugs, catching the horrified look on Kurt's face. He knows Kurt isn't a fan of big parties, and while he doesn't mind, he'd prefer to spend the evening with people he knows too. “I don't think we'll bring anyone.”

“Can we limit it to maybe a dozen people?” Rachel suggests. “It'll be crazy expensive to cook for thirty people.”

“Oh.” Michael's face takes on a thoughtful expression. “I hadn't even thought about that. So, do we want the entire Turkey thing? Like, all traditional and stuff?”

“Why not?” Kurt shrugs. “Might as well do it right. Any objections?”

Everyone seems on board with the idea, and Blaine is actually starting to really look forward to it. He'll miss his family, but it does sound like a lot of fun, getting to spend the holiday with his new friends.

“We can do it at our place,” Rachel suggests. “It's easily the biggest apartment.”

Kurt nods. “That might work.”

“Really?” Michael looks touched. “That means I won't be stuck with the clean-up the next day!”

“You'll come over and help us,” Kurt decides in a voice that allows no objection.

“I'll help too, of course!” Blaine offers quickly. “I can help with the cooking too, I used to help my mom all the time.”

“Thank you.” Kurt smiles at him and Blaine's stomach flips at the sight. He lowers his head to smile into his plate of pasta instead.

“That's settled, then.” Rachel takes out her phone. “I'll ask Janet right away. Oh, Santana will be there, of course.”

“I thought she finally really made up with Hayley last night?” Kurt asks, raising an eyebrow.

“She did, but do you honestly think we'll be able to keep her away when there's free food?”

“Good point,” Kurt says, his shoulders slumping a little.

“So I'll finally get to meet the elusive third roommate.” Blaine nudges Kurt's shoulder with his own playfully. “Yay.”

“Don't say that until you've met her.” Kurt smiles at him and this time, Blaine doesn't look away when he smiles back.

**

All the classes seem to get a little harder the weeks before Thanksgiving, and Kurt is more grateful than ever he decided to pick up yoga the year before. It's the perfect outlet for when he feels like everything gets too much, and he has so much on his plate these days with school and all of his friends and the pressure he still feels from wanting to be good at what he does. He's so grateful for the chance to be here, to be able to go after his dreams, but sometimes he's just plain tired.

He's really looking forward to having a few days off. He loves his classes. He just really needs a break from them sometimes.

The night before their improvised little Thanksgiving celebration, Michael comes over to help him and Rachel with the food shopping. Blaine had offered to be there too, always helpful, but Kurt had assured him that three people were more than enough for the job. And since Blaine will already help with the cooking, he'll be there early the next day anyway.

“Are you sure you don't want my help with the cooking?” Michael asks, not sounding as if he particularly wants to help. “I could come over earlier...”

“That's okay,” Kurt assures him. “Blaine and I can manage.” He checks their list again. “So, how many people are we going to be? It's Rachel and me, Blaine, you, Damian, Janet, Santana, Hayley, John … anyone else?”

“Blaine's roommate,” Michael reminds him.

“Jonas, right.” Kurt counts quickly in his head. “Ten people. Sounds okay.”

“Who knew so many people are still going home for the holidays,” Michael sighs. “They don't know what they're missing out on.”

Kurt nods in agreement, even though he still wishes he could see his family. But he really can't afford to fly home for every holiday. He'll see his dad for Christmas. That's good enough. And even though it's still a strange thought to be celebrating this holiday away from home, he can't help but feel a little bit proud of the life he's made for himself in New York. He won't be alone. He's never really alone anymore. And that is something he's been dreaming of for so long, it feels almost unreal sometimes, to actually have it.

**

Kurt is up early the next morning and dresses casually in old jeans and a sweatshirt. He'll change before everyone arrives, of course. But he doesn't want to risk ruining any of his clothes when he'll just be cooking all day anyway. Rachel is still sleeping and Santana finally moved out again, so he has nothing to do but sit around and watch TV, which is a nice change from all the busyness of the past few weeks.

Turns out, he has kind of forgotten how to switch his brain off, though, which isn't all that surprising. He finds himself mindlessly rearranging items on the coffee table, going over the recipes in his head, flipping through a folder of sheet music to pick out his next practice piece. He's almost incredibly grateful when Blaine turns up at ten, half an hour earlier than they had agreed upon.

Blaine's face is flushed and he smiles apologetically when Kurt opens the door. “I'm sorry, I left early because I didn't know if I would find the way without problem, I hope I'm not interrupting anything?”

Kurt waves him inside. “Oh, no. I was bored, actually. Hi.”

“Hi,” Blaine replies, sliding off his jacket, which Kurt takes from him to hang up next to the door.

“So,” he says, as soon as his hands are free again, unsure of how to proceed. He doesn’t often have people over at his apartment, and this is kind of new territory.

“So,” Blaine repeats, shrugging his shoulders, a slightly nervous grin on his face. “This is where you live.”

“It is.” Kurt gestures a hand around the room. “It's … well, this is everything, actually. We don't have walls. I mean ...” he laughs. “We did our best to partition off some sections, but, yeah. That's the kitchen area over there,” he waves his hand to indicate the different spots, “and behind that curtain there is where Rachel sleeps. Like, right now. But don't worry about waking her, it's late enough for her to get up.”

Blaine grins. “Okay.”

“...and that's my 'room',” he puts finger quotes around the word, indicating his curtained off corner of the loft. “Oh, and bathroom's through there. That's everything. It's not much, but -”

“It's amazing,” Blaine says, looking around. “I always wanted to live in a loft. The dorms were just more convenient. But this is a great place.”

“Thank you.”

“Maybe I'll talk Jonas or Jess or someone into moving into our own place next year,” Blaine muses.

“Let me know if you need help moving,” Kurt offers.

Blaine smiles at him, and silence stretches once again. It's just a little awkward, and Kurt is completely unsure of what to do. He's never uncomfortable around Blaine, except for the obvious issue of finding him insanely attractive and not being able to show it. But this shouldn't really be so difficult. “Should we just … get started?” he suggests finally, wanting to break the moment.

“Sure, yes,” Blaine agrees immediately, obviously grateful for having something to do. “Let's begin.”

**

The kitchen area is littered with pots and pans and cutting boards by the time Rachel's head peeks around her curtain.

“Morning, boys.”

“Good morning,” Blaine greets her, looking up from his vigorous chopping.

Rachel blinks around sleepily as she takes a tentative step out of her corner, dressed in ridiculous pink pajamas with cupcakes printed all over them. “Do you need any help?”

“No!” Kurt says immediately, shaking his head emphatically to bring his point across.

“No, thank you, we've got it covered,” Blaine adds, not wanting to make her feel rejected.

“Fine.” She yawns, stretches her arms above her head. “I guess I'll go out for breakfast.” She observes the mess for a minute longer, then nods to herself. “Out. Definitely, yes.”

She emerges again five minutes later, fully dressed, calling out a “goodbye” to them before she pulls the heavy door open and is gone.

“So, now that we don't have to be quiet anymore, how about some music?” Kurt suggests.

“Perfect,” Blaine agrees.

Kurt wanders off in search of his laptop and a few minutes later, they're both back to cooking, only now they're singing along to a random playlist Kurt has thrown together quickly, and, Blaine thinks, this is definitely turning out to be fun.

“ _Have you heard, it's in the stars, next July we collide with Mars_ ,” Blaine sings right at Kurt, who laughs and dances around him to get to the fridge for more butter.

**

“ … and it's like, of course I like the music, but when I watch the movie, I actually want to hear the actors sing, you know? Ugh.”

Blaine laughs. “I like singing along to musicals.”

“Of course you do.” Kurt rolls his eyes at him in a fond gesture. “I should have known you are one of _those_ people.”

“Hey,” Blaine protests. “It's fun!”

“Maybe you should live with Rachel, I'm sure you two would get along great.”

“No!” It comes out a little more panicky than he'd intended, and he laughs it off. “Don't even think about leaving me alone with her!”

“She kind of grows on you after a while,” Kurt says, but he bumps his shoulder against Blaine's at the counter and smiles.

**

“He actually did that?” Kurt looks shocked. “Suddenly I'm really glad I never had an older brother.”

Blaine nods. “I mean, my parents _made_ him take me along, he wasn't too thrilled about it. I think he had meant it as a sort of romantic thing for his new girlfriend, not as a day of him and his girlfriend babysitting his baby brother. I don't even remember her name anymore,” he adds thoughtfully.

“How old were you?”

He thinks quickly. “Like, ten? Nine, maybe?”

“He left a _nine-year old_ alone at an amusement park?”

“It wasn't that bad at first! And he left me by the Grand Carousel, which was always my favorite, but after I'd been on it like twenty times, I got … well, I got bored.”

“What did you do?”

Blaine shrugs. “I sat down somewhere and … waited?”

“Oh my god.” Kurt shakes his head in disbelief, shifting a bit closer at the counter so that Blaine can feel comforting warmth radiating from his body. “You could have been … What if someone had kidnapped you, or ...”

“Nothing happened.” Blaine laughs. “He came back eventually and he bought me ice cream to make it up to me.” He pauses. “I still hated him for a little while. For a nine-year old, it was … scary.”

“Of course it was!” Kurt looks at him, his mouth a tight line with concern for the little boy left alone at Kings Island by an irresponsible older brother.

“Like, I remember at one point this old guy came up to me and asked me where my parents were, and I just … I knew I wasn't allowed to talk to strangers, so I just ran off and hid behind a bench.” He laughs at the memory.

Kurt frowns. “What did your parents have to say about all that?”

“I never told them,” Blaine admits, shrugging. “Didn't seem like that big of a deal anymore once Cooper came back.”

“Oh Blaine!” Kurt leans into him briefly, and Blaine smiles. It's just like Kurt to be so nice about something that stopped bothering Blaine a day after it happened. He'd been a very forgiving nine-year old and Cooper had been extra nice to him the following days. It really hadn't been all that bad.

**

Rachel is back by lunchtime, and she’s carrying a bag with sandwiches in her hand. “Hungry?”

Blaine watches as Kurt snatches the bag from her hand to inspect it, then pulls her into a one-armed hug. “I forgive you for all the times you rehearsed for your Phantom audition after 10pm,” he announces cheerfully. “Thank you!”

Blaine joins them on the couch, accepts the bag after Kurt has picked out his lunch. He is hungry by now, but there had been no room to make lunch anywhere with the preparations for dinner in full swing.

“So, how’s it going?” Rachel asks around a mouthful of sandwich. “Do you need help? My offer still stands.”

“I think we’re almost done,” Blaine says, and Kurt nods.

“Everything under control. But thanks.”

Rachel seems relieved, and Blaine thinks that might have to do with the story Kurt told him about her almost setting the stove on fire the last time she tried to cook - Kurt has mentioned that she’s been somewhat afraid of the kitchen ever since.

“Oh.” Rachel swallows another bite of sandwich before going on. “Santana’s gonna be over in half an hour or so, she’s going to help set everything up.”

Kurt snorts. “You mean she’s looking for an excuse to go through our stuff again.”

“She does that?” Blaine asks. He kind of can’t wait to meet her after all the stories he’s heard.

“Frequently,” Kurt confirms.

“That’s why I have locks on all my drawers now,” Rachel says proudly.

“Yeah, she can pick those.” Kurt fishes another sandwich out of the bag, shrugging almost apologetically at the way Rachel’s face falls.

“That explains why my diary is never in the place I left it...”

“You keep a written record of the insanity in your head when you have someone like Santana around?” Kurt looks at her incredulously.

“I didn’t think she’d -”

“She’s Santana.” Kurt makes it sound like that explains everything.

“I’m not really sure whether I want to meet her now,” Blaine admits, laughing.

“Oh, she’s really not that bad,” Rachel hastens to assure him.

“No, she totally is,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes at Blaine. But Blaine thinks he can hear something like exasperated fondness in Kurt’s voice, so he decides not to worry too much.

They’re almost done eating when the door slides open and Kurt gives Rachel a sharp look. “You were supposed to get the key back from her.”

“I did, I told her -”

“So tell me there’ll be booze tonight,” a voice greets from the doorway.

Blaine can’t help but think that Santana looks nothing like he imagined and exactly like he thought she would. She’s beautiful, no doubt, but the way her eyes immediately zero in on him, squinting, head tilted to the side like she’s assessing him, he can’t deny she's making him a bit nervous.

“Where’s Hayley?” Rachel asks.

“Getting bikini waxed,” Santana answers, waving her hand like Rachel just interrupted something important.

“...didn’t need to know that,” Kurt mutters under his breath.

“Who’s the hobbit?” Santana asks.

“I’m Blaine,” he offers, assuming she’s talking about him.

“Hi Blaine, I’m Santana,” she says, her voice sounding suspiciously honey-like all of a sudden. With a few quick strides she’s over at the couch, squeezing herself in between himself and Kurt, a wide smile on her face and something mischievous glinting in her eyes. “How very nice to meet you.”

“Um, nice to meet you too?” Blaine tries, attempting to catch Kurt’s eyes around her back, but she moves with him as he leans back to do so.

“So, you’re Kurt’s friend.”

Blaine is sure he has never heard someone actually pronounce quotation marks around a word, but when Santana says _friend_ , he can hear them.

“Santana...” Kurt’s voice sounds like a warning, but she quickly turns toward him, patting his knee.

“Relax, Babygay, I’m not going to eat him. Auntie Tana is just making small talk with the newest dwarflord in town.” And with that, she’s facing Blaine again. “So, you and Kurt have this whole Dirty Dancing thing going on, right? How’s that working out for you so far?”

“I - um, what?” Blaine blinks at her, not sure what she’s referring to at first. “Oh. If you mean ... Kurt is helping me with dance. If that’s what you’re talking about.”

“I see, so that’s what kids call it these days.”

“Okay, enough.” Kurt gets up quickly, reaches around Santana for Blaine’s hand to pull him up as well. “We don’t have time for this. And Santana? Please don’t scare off any of our friends tonight?”

“Nice talking to you,” she calls after Blaine, who hurries to follow Kurt back to the kitchen counter.

“I’m sorry about her,” Kurt murmurs as soon as they’re out of earshot. “She’s ... Well, I was gonna say she’s not always like this, but she kind of is. So. Just -”

“It’s okay.” Blaine smiles at him to show him he means it. “She’s ... interesting.”

Kurt looks back at her, shaking his head slowly. “That’s certainly one way of putting it.”

**

Rachel and Santana start cleaning and pushing back any piece of furniture that won’t be needed tonight, piling pillows and blankets around the coffee table for all those of their friends who won’t fit on the couch.

Blaine helps Kurt put the finishing touches on their dinner before they head out to the fire escape for a few minutes, cups of coffee in hand, catching their breath for a little while.

“I think I have never actually cooked for that many people,” Kurt tells him.

“Me either.” Blaine takes a sip of his coffee, leans back against the metal railing, glad to be sitting down for a while. His feet hurt a little from all the standing. “It’s a lot more work than I thought.”

“It was fun, though, right?”

“Definitely!”

They stay outside for a few more minutes until they both start shivering in the November air and Kurt suggests they go back inside to see if the girls need any help.

Between the four of them, everything is set up quickly, and Kurt excuses himself to his room to change his clothes.

Rachel’s phone rings a few seconds later, and that’s how Blaine suddenly finds himself alone with Santana.

He smiles at her, not sure what to actually say. He never has trouble starting a conversation with anyone, but then he has the feeling that he’s never met anyone quite like her.

Santana herself just leans forward in the armchair she had secured for herself, elbows propped on her knees, smiling at him in a way he can’t quite make sense of.

“So, how long have you been in New York?” he finally asks, even though he knows it’s a lame question.

She snorts, grins at him. “If that's a pickup line, I think that first, it could need some improvement, and second, I don't have the body parts you're looking for.”

Blaine stares at her, taken aback for a second. “Excuse me?”

Santana shakes her head, sighs. “Listen,” she says. “I’m sorry about earlier. You seem like a good guy.”

“Thanks?” He’s not really sure how to answer that or where she’s going with this.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” she says. “Judy and Barbra are my family, got that? And I’m loyal to my family. You hurt one of them, you hurt me. And you don’t wanna do that. All right?”

It takes him awhile to decipher her code, but then he nods, looking at her thoughtfully. “It might be more obvious _to them_ that you care about them if you started using their actual names.”

Santana holds his gaze for a minute, then breaks into laughter. “I like you,” she says. And that seems to be the end of that conversation, but the silence is no longer awkward.

He has to admit, he kind of likes her. At least her crazy is straightforward. He thinks he can handle that.

Kurt reappears a minute later, offering Blaine his room to change in. Blaine grabs his bag with the clothes he brought and walks over to Kurt’s curtained off area of the apartment, Santana offering him an almost unthreatening smile a he walks by. He feels like he just made a new friend. A strange and somewhat intimidating friend, but a friend nonetheless.

**

People start arriving about half an hour later, and except for Hayley, who is a lot less scary than Santana, Blaine knows all of them.

There's no table big enough for everyone, so they scatter throughout the apartment, sitting on the floor mostly, plates balanced on their legs. It's improvised and a little messy and chaotic and Blaine loves every second of it. He's always liked the holiday, but he's never celebrated it quite like this. It's fun.

Michael and John brought alcohol and Blaine debates maybe having a beer later – it's been a while since he's had any, mostly just at Warbler parties and he'd felt safe there. He feels safe here too, in Rachel and Kurt's apartment surrounded by friends who are loud and exhausting and wonderful.

Once the food is cleared away, Blaine finds himself sitting on the couch between Kurt and Jonas, listening to Rachel tell the story of her Mamma Mia audition and the complete unfairness of the casting process.

“Seriously, just because she's his niece! I think it was like a done deal from the beginning, and my range is clearly so much better than hers, and, seriously, I was great that day -”

Blaine catches Kurt's gaze, exchanging a smile with him. Kurt lifts his shoulders and shakes his head in quiet amusement.

He's glad he decided to stay in New York.

**

“Well, if we _do_ decide to do karaoke later, I claim Damian as my duet partner,” Michael announces loudly, throwing an arm around him and hugging him to his side, which is no small feat considering Damian is at least twice his size.

Damian shoots a slightly scared look in Blaine and Kurt's direction while he sits very stiffly, not really used to spontaneous hugging.

“What about me?” John, who's actually nice and not as crazy as could have been expected for someone who is Michael's boyfriend, pouts.

“Honey, no offense, but you can't sing,” Michael answers, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“But duets are so romantic,” John insists.

“I'll sing _to_ you. That'll be romantic too!”

“Fine,” John gives in, cuddling against Michael, sandwiching him between his own body and Damian's.

“If we're claiming duet partners, I get to have Blaine,” Rachel speaks up.

Blaine shakes his head. “I'm singing with Kurt.”

“You are?” Kurt looks at him, apparently not completely against the idea. “What are we singing?”

“I don't know.” He thinks about it. “ _Let's make it all for one and all for love_...” he sings, and Kurt rolls his eyes.

“No.”

Blaine blinks up at him, sticking his bottom lip out. “But it's a good song!”

“Then sing it by yourself.”

“That one needs more than one person!”

“Well.” Kurt smiles. “I guess we'll have to pick something else then, won't we?”

“But, Kurt …”

“You can't actually win when he gets like that,” Rachel informs Blaine with a knowing look.

“Want me to sing to you, baby?” Santana asks Hayley, twirling a strand of Hayley's brown hair around her index finger.

“You know I love it when you sing to me,” Hayley answers, and Blaine is surprised how sweet Santana can actually be.

“And later I'll get you naked make _you_ sing once we ditched these gay hobbits.”

… But apparently her sweet moments don't actually seem to last all that long.

**

Feeling slightly tipsy even though he hasn't even had that much to drink, Kurt slips away from his friends who are spread throughout the loft and opens the window to the fire escape. He just needs five minutes of air and a bit of quiet to clear his head.

It's cold outside, but that's why he and Rachel keep a few random blankets next to the window. He grabs one, wraps himself up as he sits down on the cold metal. He's quite proud of the way the night has gone so far – the food was excellent and he likes every single person that showed up tonight. He's having fun. He still needs just a few minutes away from it all. He's been on his feet all day, preparing and cooking, and he's tired. He's also having a fleeting moment of melancholy, missing the quiet and comfort of his family. By now his dad would probably be asleep in the armchair, Finn snoring on the floor in front of the TV, allowing Carole and him to switch channels to something they actually _want_ to watch...

The street noise dulls the hum of voices from inside, and he shivers in the cold breeze, drawing his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“There you are,” a voice says behind him, and he sees Blaine climb out the window, surprisingly unsteady on his feet after just one and a half beers.

“Grab a blanket,” Kurt advises, motioning inside to where they are piled on a small bench by the window.

“Oh.” Blaine turns back, picking one. “Yes. Good idea. Thanks.”

He joins Kurt on the fire escape, sitting down just a little too close, but then, it's a small space. They just sit in silence for a while, listening to the soft droning of the city they both love in the background.

“I wanted to thank you,” Blaine finally says.

Kurt looks at him, his profile basked in soft light from the street lamps and the window. “What for?”

“Inviting me,” Blaine says and looks up, a shy smile on his lips. “And … well. Everything, really. You're so nice all the time.”

Kurt shakes his head, grinning. Blaine is adorable when he's tipsy. “I'm not. And you don't have to thank me. For anything.”

“I want to.”

“But you really don't … ”

“Kurt?” Blaine interrupts him, sounding slightly amused.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” Blaine says. “Just accept it. Please.”

Kurt sighs. “ … okay. Okay, fine. You're welcome, Blaine.” He smiles at him, unable to tear his eyes from Blaine's. They're darker in the soft light of a New York night, but no less intense than usual. A little glassy maybe, his cheeks a little flushed from alcohol and the cold night air.

“I'm really glad I met you,” Blaine says, quiet.

“I'm … Likewise,” Kurt answers. He means it. He really does. It's how _much_ he means it that scares him. Because Blaine's beautiful face is right there next to his, and those eyes, and the smile on those ridiculously full lips … he's in so much trouble, and he's almost too tired, too happy after a wonderful day, to care.

“I had fun today,” Blaine continues, and as innocent as the statement is, it seems dangerous combined with the gentle look in Blaine's eyes.

“I'm glad,” Kurt says, voice a little shaky, his own head spinning with the few drinks he's had and the sheer proximity to the boy he's completely and helplessly crushing on. “Blaine...”

But he doesn't get any more words in before Blaine's lips are suddenly on his, wet and warm and _perfect_ and for a second, he's too overwhelmed to even react. Before he knows what he's doing, he's kissing back, it's like he can't not. It's _Blaine_. He's thought about him, spent more than one sleepless night imagining what it would be like, wondered what it would feel like if he just _let_ himself.

Now he's getting a glimpse and … it feels kind of wonderful.

It's tender and soft and tentative, just a gentle press of lips before Kurt feels the feeling return to his fingertips and he jerks back, eyes widening with the realization of what just happened.

“Blaine...” he repeats, his heart beating too fast, fear crowding his chest, coldly smothering the brief warmth of comfort and desire.

“I – Sorry,” Blaine whispers, his gaze soft but filled with insecurity. “Sorry, I – was that okay?”

“...I don't know.” It's all he can say. Because, oh _god_ , it was more than okay. It was … amazing. But it's _Blaine_. And he can't do this with Blaine, he can't do any of this before he hasn't figured stuff out, he can't keep making mistakes.

It's Blaine and Blaine isn't just some handsome guy he has to push from his mind when he finds himself alone at night. Blaine is … Blaine. He's kind and sweet and he makes Kurt laugh even on his worst days, and he's ridiculous and funny and one of the best friends Kurt has ever had, even if they have known each other for no more than a few weeks and … if they do this, he'll screw it up. He can't screw this up. Not this.

“I'm sorry,” Blaine repeats.

“No.” Kurt swallows. “No, I'm sorry, I'm not … You just surprised me.” He has no idea what to do when all he really wants is to sink into Blaine's arms and kiss him until everyone goes home and the sun comes up and the weekend is over and they have to go back to class. He wants it so badly, he's almost shaking with it and this is all so fucked up, and everything's all confused and tangled in his head and he's only had a few drinks, but he never drinks and he can't _think_.

“Okay,” Blaine says, doesn't look away. There's a softness in his expression that Kurt has never seen before, a quiet tenderness that makes his heart melt against his better judgment.

For a moment, he thinks Blaine is going to kiss him again, but instead, he turns his head away, stares down at his knees. “I'm really sorry, it's just … I've wanted to do that for a while.”

Kurt doesn't know what's expected of him here. He can't break Blaine's heart. And, truth be told, if he were to reject Blaine now, his own heart would break as well. Not that it matters to him much right now. It has been broken so many times in his life and he'd let it break again if it meant having this for just another moment, but this isn't just about him. He can't hurt Blaine.

He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to act, doesn't see a way out and when did this become such a mess? Why does everything always have to be so complicated? He hopes that Blaine will just read him, understand what he's saying by not saying anything. Because he can't even make sense of it himself, and he certainly doesn't have the words to explain it to someone else.

It doesn't seem to be working, though, and he feels sick with fear as Blaine takes his hand, slowly, tentatively. Blaine's hand is warm and soft and fits so perfectly in his, and he can't breathe. He sits for a few more seconds, willing his breath to calm, fighting down the panic that's rising in his throat. It's no use.

“We should go back inside.” He jumps up, hand slipping from Blaine's, and shakes his head at the confused look on Blaine's face. He's swaying just a bit on his feet, _damn alcohol_ , but steadies himself quickly. “They'll wonder where we are. We should -”

Blaine gets up too, nodding. “... okay. Okay, good, yes. Of course.”

The look of disappointment is unmistakable on his face, and Kurt feels his chest ache with the knowledge that once again he screwed it all up. This shouldn't be so difficult, why is this always so difficult for him. He grew up unable to trust others, and now, as he's finally growing up, growing into the person he's dreamed of being for so long, it's himself he can't trust anymore.

And that is not something he knows how to simply get over.

**

Blaine follows Kurt back inside through the window, trying to make sense of everything that just happened. He feels … unsure, his mind a little fuzzy around the edges, and he knows that's the beer. Dammit. He shouldn't have done this tonight. He can't shake the feeling that once again, he completely misinterpreted everything and fucked up on an epic level.

But Kurt had been so … so _open_ all day. Laughing and teasing and singing, and standing close and drifting between effortless conversation and comfortable silence. There had been something there, he hasn't imagined all of it. He's sure. And Kurt _had_ kissed him back. He can still feel Kurt's lips, taste his breath. So warm and sweet and perfect and _oh god_ , he hadn't wanted to stop. He wants to kiss Kurt again, even if he is pretty sure right now he won't get that chance any time soon, the way Kurt had reacted.

They rejoin their friends inside the loft, who have apparently not even noticed their absence. Which is probably a good thing. This isn't really something he needs to talk about with any of them.

He really wants to blame it on the beer. He's always been a lightweight. But he knows that's not all it was – he's impulsive. He makes bad decisions and ruins things and he might have just scared Kurt off for good. He hopes not. Kurt is special. Special to him and special in general. Kurt is so amazing. Kurt is one of the best friends he's ever had, and it doesn't matter that they've known each other for barely three months.

“Blaine, Blaine!” Damian waves him over as soon as he spots him. “That Firefly episode where Jayne is a hero in this town … what's it called, the town -”

“Canton,” Blaine offers automatically.

Everyone is gathered around the coffee table, and his former spot on the couch is now occupied by Santana and Hayley who are making out furiously, apparently completely oblivious to anything going on around them.

“That's right. _The hero of Canton, the man they call Jayne_...” Damian sings, and Janet shakes her head.

“You will never get me to watch that.”

“Oh come on, it's awesome. Blaine, tell her!”

Blaine squeezes himself in between Damian and Janet, since Kurt has already taken a seat on the floor between Rachel and Jonas on the far side of the table. Blaine is actually glad they're not sitting next to each other right now – he knows he has to talk to Kurt about … all of this. But this isn't the right venue, it's not the right time with all these people crowding the apartment. He'll have to catch him later. Preferably when he's feeling less dizzy, but he knows he'll probably not be able to wait that long. Because it's a very real possibility that he actually upset Kurt. He doesn't like that thought. He doesn't like that thought at all.

“It's awesome,” he says dutifully, because, well, it is. He just doesn't really feel like discussing Joss Whedon's genius right now.

He chances a small glance in Kurt's direction – Kurt already appears to be deep in a conversation with Rachel, laughing at something she says. Blaine wonders if he's the only one right now who thinks that Kurt seems almost subdued. He kicks himself mentally once again. He really doesn't know what the hell he was thinking.

“You're so coming over to our next movie night,” Damian tells Janet.

“It's not even a movie, you can't watch Firefly for movie night,” Hayley jumps in, momentarily detaching her lips from Santana's, who, unable to reach her mouth, starts kissing down her neck instead, mumbling against her skin.

“I don't know how you make being a nerd so hot, baby.”

“Talent,” Hayley says, running her fingers down Santana's back.

“Mmm. You got a lot of that in other areas as well.”

“I miss Tom,” Jonas pouts, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I guess that means you want me out of the dorm when he gets back?” Blaine has met Jonas' boyfriend a few times by now. He's a good guy.

“Nah, probably gonna stay over at his place.”

“I think we should stay right here for the rest of the night,” Hayley sing-songs, burying her face in Santana's shoulder, who hums contentedly.

“Are they even aware there are people in the room?” Janet asks, staring openly at the girls.

“When they get like this? I think they just don't care,” Kurt answers.

“Damn right,” Santana confirms. “Make sure to watch, take notes, maybe you'll learn something.”

Hayley giggles, and that signals the end of their participation in any kind of conversation for now.

“Did we ever make an actual decision about karaoke?” Rachel asks, eager to sing as always.

“Honestly? I'm way too full to even think about singing,” Damian admits. “I'll never eat again. Or move.”

“Oh my god!” Jonas gasps, feigning shock. “Damian isn't hungry? What is happening to the world?”

“Asshole,” Damian shoots back at him.

“Anyone else?” Rachel looks around hopefully, but no one seems to want to right now.

Blaine is a karaoke enthusiast. He loves it. Seriously. Any chance he can get, he never gets tired of it. But right now... “Sorry, maybe some other time.”

“You could all come with us next Saturday,” Jonas suggests. “It's Callbacks again, you guys like that, right?”

“I could be up for that,” Janet says.

“You guys still hang out with that karaoke group?” Michael asks.

“It's fun,” Jonas tells him, and Blaine nods.

“It really is. You should totally come along next week,” he says. He tries not to look at Kurt as he says it.

“It might be fun,” Kurt says.

And Blaine has to remind his heart to stop beating so fast. Karaoke is a group activity. It's not like this means anything. But it's something. He can't have screwed up too badly if Kurt is still up for karaoke with him. _Them_. With them. All of them.

“I'm in!” Rachel sits up a little straighter. “In fact, we should start practicing right now! I already have the perfect idea for a -”

“No.” Kurt cuts her off. “Let it go, Rachel,” he adds a little softer.

“But I love karaoke,” she sighs, taking another sip from her … whatever it is she's drinking (it's green and looks a bit like poison). “I love singing. I'm really good at it too.”

Apparently Rachel isn't quite sober anymore either. So at least he's in good company, Blaine thinks. Even if he definitely isn't drunk. Just a little … buzzed. Pleasantly light-headed in the way he usually likes, except when it makes him kiss boys he's kind of in love with and who clearly just want to be friends with him.

He lets the conversation go on around him for a few minutes, careful to keep his focus on Damian, Janet, Michael, all of his friends except Kurt, even though he still keeps watching him out of the corner of his eyes. He has to apologize. He has to explain. He wishes he had a rule book for these things. He's not good at making it up as he goes along, but it seems that's the way his entire life is always going no matter how carefully he plans it. At some point, it kicks you in the shins, takes all of your carefully thought-out plans and runs off in the opposite direction.

He takes the opportunity when Kurt gets up to get more drinks for everyone, scrambling to his feet in a hurry and almost kicking Janet in the head in the process. “Let me help you!”

Kurt smiles at him, waits until Blaine gets to his feet and they walk the few feet across the loft together.

Blaine waits until they're out of earshot before stepping a little closer to Kurt. “Listen, about what happened ...”

“It's okay, Blaine.” Kurt doesn't look at him, busies himself with opening another bag of chips and filling them into a bowl.

Blaine grabs some peanuts, starts filling them into a smaller bowl to have something to do, to help. “ … we should probably talk about it.”

Kurt nods, glancing over quickly, still not quite meeting Blaine's eyes. “Yes. But … can we wait? Like, can you stick around after everyone leaves? Or meet me for coffee tomorrow.”

“Coffee sounds good.” Blaine regrets it the second the words are out of his mouth, but he can't take it back now. He'll have to go to sleep anxious and wondering about what this all means.

“Okay.” Kurt opens the fridge, hands Blaine a few bottles of beer before grabbing a few himself.

“So we'll talk tomorrow?” Blaine asks.

“We will. But just because … because I don't want us to – I don't want this to be weird. Us. I don't want us to be … weird.”

“I don't want that either,” Blaine confirms. “And I'm really -”

“It's okay, Blaine,” Kurt assures him. “We're okay.”

“Good.” Blaine smiles, and almost believes Kurt.


End file.
